THE  SUNNY  SOUTH; 


OR, 


THE  SOUTHERNER  AT  HOME, 


EMBEACINQ 


FIVE  YEARS'  EXPERIENCE  OF  A  NORTHERN  GOVERNESS 


IN  THE 


LAND  OF  THE  SDGAR  AND  THE  COTTON. 


EDITED    BT 


PROFESSOR  J.  H.  INGRAHAM, 

OF   MISSISSIPPI. 


"  St«m  winter  smiles  on  that  anspidong  clim«, 
The  fields  are  aortd  with  lurfadliiK  prime; 
From  the  bleak  pole  no  winds  inclement  blow, 
Mold  tUe  round  hail,  or  flake  the  fleecy  snow ; 
But  from  the  breezy  deep  the  land  inhales 
ThG  'ragrant  murmurs  of  the  westera  gales." 


PHILADELPHIA : 
a.    G.    EVANS,    PUBLISHER, 

No.    439    CHESTNUT    STREET. 
1860. 


Entered  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1860,  by 

G.    O.    EVANS, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Eastern  District  of 
Pennsylvania. 


EDITORIAL  LETTER  TO  THIS  TOLUME. 


To  GrEORGE  Cr.  EVANS,  EsQ. 

Sir: — This  manuscript  of  "Letters  from  the  South," 
which  I  send  you  for  your  perusal,  has  been,  aa  you  will  see, 
very  carefully  and  plainly  written  out  for  the  press,  by  a  young 
Grovemess  of  this  State,  who  diffidently  declines  to  give  her 
name  in  connection  with  the  work. 

It  is  true  that  the  authorship  of  what  has  been  composed 
from  materials  mainly  by  another  hand,  cannot  be  wholly 
claimed  by  either  party :  the  work,  therefore,  if  published  by 
you,  must  go  unaccredited  and  upon  its  own  intrinsic  merits. 

Thirty  years'  residence  at  the  South,  chiefly  at  Natchez, 
Nashville,  and  Mobile,  enables  me  to  form,  perhaps,  a  correct 
estimate  of  the  accuracy  of  a  work  professing  to  relate  the 
experiences  of  a  stranger  from  the  North,  sojourning  in  the  land 
of  "  tobacco,  cotton,  and  sugar." 

The  writer  has  chosen  to  give  the  materials  collected  from 
experience  and  observation  in  the  attractive  form  of  familiar 
letters,  addressed,  by  request,  to  an  intelligent  literary  gentle- 
man and  editor  in  the  North. 

While  presenting  accurate  pictures  of  "  homes  in  the  Sunny 
South,"  there  is  skillfully  interwoven,  an  interesting  narrative 
embodying  the  most  romantic  features  of  Southern  rural  life 

(3) 


4  EDITORIAL   LETTER. 

on  the  tobacco,  cotton,  and  sugar  estates :  the  three  forms  under 
which  true  Southern  Life  presents  itself. 

The  tone  of  the  Book  is  strictly  conservative  and  national; 
presenting  the  impartial  view  which  an  intelligent,  unprejudiced, 
and  highly  cultivated  Northern  lady  would  take  of  the  South, 
her  temporary  and  agreeable  home ;  and  the  presentation  of 
such  a  work,  though  neither  profound  nor  political,  (but  adapted 
for  light,  summer-perusal,  when  one  covets  pacific  and  pleasant 
reading,)  at  the  present  time,  will,  without  doubt,  be  an  accept- 
able gift  to  the  reading  public ;  especially,  when  hitherto  so 
much  in  relation  to  our  people  and  institutions  is  misunderstood 
and  misinterpreted  by  those  who  have  no  personal  knowledge 
cither  of  Southerners  or  of  Southern  life. 

This  work  has  not  been  penned  merely  to  meet  any  recent 
events.  The  letters  composing  it  were  commenced  seven  years 
ago,  and  leisurely  produced  in  a  period  of  three  years,  the  last  one 
having  been  completed  in  1856 ;  and  were  not  written  with  any 
intention  of  ever  taking  a  book  form.  Some  of  them  appeared 
in  1853-4,  in  the  Saturday  Courier,  a  popular  paper  once  pub- 
lished in  your  city,  bearing  the  nom  de  plume  of  "  Miss  Kate 
Conyngham." 

In  consenting  to  commend  them  to  your  attention,  I  feel 
that  I  am  contributing  towards  the  publication  of  a  work  which 
will  render  more  familiar  "  Southern  Life  at  Home"  to  North- 
ern minds,  while  its  scenes,  incidents,  and  characters  will 
agreeably  interest  the  reader. 

If  the  publication  of  this  letter  will  be  of  any  service  to  the 
work,  and  contribute  towards  your  favorable  decision,  I  cheer- 
fully give  you  permission  to  append  it  to  the  volume. 

Very  truly  yours, 

J.  H.  Ingraham. 
Rose  Cottage,  near  Natchez,  Mississippi 


PREFACE. 


As  most  of  the  Letters  embraced  in  this  volume  were  written 
for  the  Editor  of  the  late  American  Courier,  and  appeared 
therein,  from  time  to  time,  the  writer  thereof  has  not  seen  fit 
to  alter  the  local  allusions,  the  style  of  address  in  the  Let- 
ters, or  the  appellation  of  "Needles,"  by  which  they  were 
originally  designated.  As  these  Letters  were  commenced,  and ' 
many  of  them  published  before  Mrs.  Stowe's  Uncle  Tom  was 
written,  its  pictures  of  South-western  life  have  no  reference  to 
that  work  nor  were  influenced  by  it.  These  epistles  are  not 
replies  to  any  attacks  on  the  South,  but  a  simple  representation 
of  Southern  life,  as  viewed  by  an  intelligent  Northerner,  whose 
opinions  are  frankly  and  fearlessly  given.  — 

The  object  of  this  work  is  to  do  justice  to  the  Southern 
planter,  and,  at  the  same  time,  afford  information  in  an  agree- 
able form  to  the  Northerner ;  and  if  these  objects  are  obtained 
in  any  degree,  the  writer,  in  consenting  to  its  publication  as  a 
volume,  will  be  fully  rewarded.  One  important  fact  ought  not 
to  be  overlooked,  which  is,  that  ninetj'-nine  out  of  every  hun- 
dred of  the  governesses,  tutors,  professional  men,  and  others, 
who  flock  to  the  Soutb,  "ten  thousand  a  year,"  for  the  improve- 
ment of  their  fortunes,  remain,  (the  young  ladies,  if  they  can 
obtain  "  Southern  husbands,")  and  identify  themselves  fully  with 

the  Southern  Institutions. 

(5) 


CONTENTS. 


LETTER  I. 
DTTBODUCTOBT. 

rum 

Titles,  how  selected — Their  value  to  a  hook — The  difiScalty  of  choos- 
ing of  a  good  title — "  Dots  and  Lines" — Scissors  and  Needles — Fe- 
male Authorship — Woman's  pen-trials — The  Author's  happiness — 
Ambition  to  be  in  type 19 

LETTER  n. 
A  western  home — Cole — Beautiful  scenery — Cotton  and  tobacco  fields — 
Shelter — Mail  coach — Lions — Doves  and  childhood — Negro  quarters 
The  overseer's  house — The  Cumberland  river 26 

LETTER  in. 

The  planter  and  his  retinue — The  African  servant  and  his  dog — The      ^ 
hunters'  departure — The  slave  girl,  Eda— The  numerous  servants  in 
a  southern  house — The  difference  between  the  field  and  house  slave    31 

LETTER  IV. 
The  hunters'  return — The  two  strangers — The  authoress'  story — The 
village  and  the  widow — The  brothers — The  beautiful  Ida — The  mis- 
chievous boy  and  minister's  horse — The  authoress — The  normal 
school — The  private  equipage — Col.  Peyton  and  daughter — The  sur- 
prise  , 37 

LETTER  V. 
Touring  among  the  mountains — The  letter — The  struggle — The  opposi- 
tion— The  little  invalid  scholar — The  parting  at  the  school-house — 
Sympathy — The  tour  west — Arrival  in  Nashville — The  "  Lodge" 45 

7 


\ 


8  CONTENTS. 

LETTER  VI.  v/ 

Author's  looks — Camel's  hair  pencils — The  plantation  bell — Waking 
hours — The  mint-julep — The  luxury  of  a  domestic — The  breakfast 
verandah — The  dinner — The  evening  ride — The  drawing-room — 
Hoars  of  retiring 60 

LETTER  VII.; 
Fox-hunting — Kate's   courser — The  young  Tennessee   hunters  —  The 
separation — The  master  and  his  slaves — Reflections — The  Peacock 
and  mule — The  fight — A  race,  but  not  a  fox-chase — The  catastrophe.    56 

LETTER  VIIL 
The  morning  start — The  ravine  and  dogs — The  negroes'  invitation  to 
Reynard — The  baying— The  flight  of  the  fox — The  conflict  and  leap 
— The  entanglement — The  veil  and  the  death — Kate  presented  with 
the  brush 61 


c/ 


LETTER  IXi 

The  rural  chapel  —  The  gray-haired  pastor — The  authoress  attends 
church — Group  of  Madonna  and  child — The  singing  of  master  and 
slaves — The  mistress  and  her  servants — The  ebony  baptisms 66 

LETTER  X.V 
Nashville — Its  approaches — The   Hermitage  and  tomb — The  capitol — 
President  Polk — Fashion  and  gayety — Authors— Poets  of  the  west 
—French  in  newspapers — Candidate  for  authorship 71 

LETTER  XL 

Enlisted  as  contributor — Gratitude — The  hopes  and  fears  of  authorship 
— Love  of  poets  for  their  verses — Lovo  of  self — Newspaper  poetry — 
What  is  immortality— The  fame  of  the  year  A.M.  6,000 77 

LETTER  XIL 
The  invitation — The  intelligence  of  the  horse — Nineveh — The  nobility 
of  man — The  scenery  of  the  woods — Squirrels — The  old  negro  and 
culprit — Charms — The  Indian  hunter — The  story  of  the  old  warrior 
— The  hospitable  planter — Kate  pays  toll 83 

LETTER  XIIL 
The  good  and  true — Kate's  bravery  doubted — The  old  mansion — Di 
Vernon  rivalled — Hospitality  in   silver  goblets — The  portrait  and 


CONTENTS.  9 

PAOK 

character  of  Jackson — His  mercy — The  deserter — War-relics — The 
major's  war-horse — The  deer-stands — Military  posting — The  deer  in 
sight— Perils— The  shot , 91 

LETTER  XIV.  y 

The  pet  fawn — Buck  and  wolf — The  uproar  in  the  kennel — The  canine 
epicures  and  Mam'  Daphney — Old  George  and  his  fiddle — A  slave 
village  by  moonlight — True  music — Young  Africa — Com  dance — 
Biding  a  bull  for  a  wager — Songs  of  the  people 102 


LETTER  XV.  v^ 

The  scenery  about  the  lodge — The  Polks — The  "  needles"  in  danger — 
The  bloodhound — A  rescue  and  the  dirk — Aunt  Phillisy — The  aged 
African — Care  of  southerners  for  the  old  slaves — Conversation  with 
Cusha — Comparison  between  the  Indian  and  African — Female  politi- 
cians and  patriotism — Clay  and  Webster 112 

LETTER  XVL 

Emerson  and  his  thoughts — Female  writers — The  colonel  reads  no  book 
written  by  a  lady — Shirley — Groldsinith — Shakspeare — Fame  and 
Tom  Moore — Opening  an  Indian  mound — Discovery  of  idols — Ge- 
ology en  amateur — Thunderbolts — A  lover's  quarrel — All  owing  to 
a  prescription — A  story  proposed  121 


LETTER  XVIL 


y 


The  Nashville  convention — The  site  of  the  city — Two  South  Carolini- 
ans— An  old  Roman — The  party  attend  convention — Politeness  in 
public  assemblies — Madame  de  Stael  upon  honor  and  duty — South  •  /' 
Carolina  orators — The  handsome  mayor — Speeches  of  Virginia  dele-^'' 
gation— Hon.  Wm.  Colquitt— General  Pillow— W.  H.  Polk— Self- 
laudation — Adjournment  of  convention — Thanks  to  the  ladies — A 
gift  from  South  Carolina 129 

LETTER  XVin. 

A  mysterious  letter — Not  a  declaration — The  fame  of  the  authoress  at 
a  premium — Invitation  to  write — A  tale  proposed — The  master  and 
slave — An  African  wedding — Brilliant  costumes — The  supper — Ethi- 
opian gentility — The  sea-captain — New  Africa  ignores  Old  Africa^ 
The  captain  rides 142 


10  CONTENTS. 

LETTER   XIX. 

FAOX 

The  authoress  writes  a  tale — A  word  to  editors — Isabel  and  the  wounded 
soldier — A  noble  reply — Orthography  and  warm  hearts — An  adven- 
ture with  a  Bengal  tiger — The  perilous  situation  of  the  ladies — The 
power  of  music  over  brutes — The  rescue — The  death — Birds,  and 
monkeys,  and  little  negroes ; 160 

LETTER  XX. 

Fishing — Costume  for  the  woods — Isabel  in  becoming  attire — Men's 
hats  and  women — The  pic-nic-basket — A  betrayal  of  red  sealing-wax 
— A  merry  party — The  captain's  craft — Towing  into  port — Cooing — 
The  forest  brook — The  lovers — Lessons  in  fishing — The  dinner  in  the 
forest — Old  Hickory's  memory 159 

LETTER  XXL 

Ralph  Waldo  Emerson — His  philosophy — A  critique — Where  his  phi- 
losophy is  defective — School  for  young  statesmen — College  for  diplo- 
mats at  Washington — Foreign  ministers  to  be  able  to  speak  foreign 
languages — Dickens  and  his  books — Mrs.  Fanny  Osgood  and  her 
pen 109 

"LETTER  XXn. 

No  more  book — Proposed  departure  to  the  Springs — The  carriage  and 
how  it  was  stowed — The  cavalcade,  not  omitting  Dickon  and  his  boots 
— The  led  horse  and  beautiful  mule — Mules  aristocratic  animals — 
Negroes'  admiration  for  new  shoes — Gentlemen's  hats — A  suggestion 
to  promote  conversation  in  the  parlor — An  expression  of  thanks  in  a 
P.S 17i 

LETTER  XXin. 

The  secret — Visit  to  Columbia — The  birth-place  and  mother  of  a  presi- 
dent— The  Gothic  institute — The  professor  and  his  halls — The  curi- 
osity of  a  bevy  of  girls — A  lioness — The  unlucky  poet — Kate's  in- 
dignation— The  colonel's  surprise — The  punishment — The  forgiveness 
— The  dreaded  poem 186 

LETTER  XXIV. 
The  Eden  of  Tennessee — The  editor's  excursion — Duck  river,  or,  what 
is  in  a  name? — A  beautiful  villa  and  grounds— Bishop   Otey  at  hia 
home — Refleetions  upon  death— Beautiful  scenery — The  art  of  smok- 
ing— A  few  feminine  suggestions  and  criticisms  on  smoking  cigars...  194 


CONTENTS.  11 

LETTER  XX  V^. 

PAcn 

A  watering  place — Its   tedium — The   last  resort — Description  of  the 

place — Noon-day  scenes — The  fishing  lawyer  and  bis  horse — The  fat 

gentleman  and  his  Catastrophe — An  alarm — General  waking  up — 

Dinner-bell — The  bonhommie  of   the  slave — Unbroken  forest — An 

Etbiopian  dinner — Night  and  it«  sounds 200 

LETTER  XXVLv/' 

The  hour  and  pen  for  writing — The  return  home — The  village  of  Mount 
Pleasant — Ken  Hill  and  scholarly  men — Donald  M'Leod — The  ne- 
glect of  education — Count  Meolis — Bonbons — The  delights  of  home 
— Keep  moving — A  proposed  trip  to  New  Orleans — The  power  of 
song — Jenny  Lind 212 

LETTER  XXVIL  ^ 

The  novelty  of  south-western  life — An  enumeration  of  objects  of  in- 
terest— The  young  southerner — The  fair  maiden  of  the  sunny  south       y 
— Run-a-way  matches — Sargent's  song — Bats  in  the  room — Terror 
of  young  ladies — The  battle  and  victory — The  colonel  lectures  on 
bats — They  devour  musquitoes,  not  maidens 222 

LETTER  XXVIILv^' 

The  baggage — Parting  at  the  park — Pets — The  mystery  of  brute  life — 
Scenery — Arrival  at  the  steamer — The  noble  America — The  beauty 
of  the  verandahs — Elegance  and  luxury — The  promenade — State- 
rooms— Departure  of  the  boat — The  last  bell 233 

LETTER  XXIX. 

The  beauty  of  the  Ohio — The  pirates'  cave — The  river  robbers — The 
good  old  keel -boat  times — Life  on  the  river  fifty  years  ago — The  grave 
beneath  the  sycamore — The  old  pilot's  story — The  assassination — 
Revelations  of  the  future — The  exquisite  and  bis  hat — The  deserters 
shot — The  pilothouse — Father  of  waters 241 

LETTER  XXX. 

Entrance  into  the  Mississippi — Meeting  of  the  waters — The  dark  river 
— The  dangers  of  the  Mississippi — Beautiful  sun-set — Chain  of  lakes 
Night  on  the  water — The  woodmen's  fires — The  captain's  story — 
Signal  fires  and  the  ruse — Earthquakes — The  bear  and  alarm 251 


12  CONTENTS. 

LETTER  XXXL  / 

V  PA»X 

The  city  of  Natchez — Its  elegance — The  beauty  of  its  suburbs — Its 
polished  people — The  magnolias — Drire  from  town — A  superb  villa 
— Visit  a  charming  garden — A  lovely  prospect — Southern  flowers — 
The  night-blooming  cereus — The  grave  of  "good  old  Peter" — Reflec- 
tions upon  "  faithful  servants" ^ 259 

LETTER  XXXII.y 

■  The  old  family — The  position  of  governesses  in  the  south — Of  tutors —  1 
The  evil  of  northern   interference  with  the 'south — The  meeting  of      \ 
Kate  with  a  friend — The  education  of  southern  boys — The  dead  shot 
— The  Indian   chief  and   Sharp's  rifle— The  Indian  grave  and  the 
Christian  chapel — Subject  for  a  poem 267 

y 

LETTER   XXXIIL 
Lost  needles — The  old  parson — The  carefully  entrusted  package — Let- 
ter from  the  editor  naming  the  loss — Reflections  upon  missing  MSS 
— Two  parcels  lost — Value  of  manuscripts  to  authors — "  To  be  pre- 
served"   276 

LETTER  XXXIV. 
In   Louisiana  —  Letters   from   the   prairies — Narrative  resumed — The 
steamer  in  sight — Fort  Rosalie — Go  on  board — AVaving  of  kerchiefs 
— The  fawn's  leap — Opulence  spoils  authors — The  elegant  steamer — 
The  mysterious  passenger 283 

LETTER  XXXV.y 
Interior  of  a  packet— The  fine  old  southern  gentleman — Happy  world 
— Wanderingpen — The  interesting  in  valid — Superb  piano  performance 
of  a  stranger — Operatic  stars — Not  Jenny  Lind — Who  is  she? — Mu- 
sical genius  of  southern  women — Biscaccianti — Parodi— Letters  from 
Louisiana , 289 

LETTER  XXXVL  ' 
The  lower  Mississippi — Scenery  on  the   shores — A  vast  cotton  field — 
Wealth  of  cotton-planters — The  way  to  get   rich — Baton  Rouge — 
The  home  of  General  Taylor — Old  Whitey — Ladies  of  Baton  Rouge 
— Members  of  the  legislature — Voyage  resumed 296 

LETTER  XXXVIL 
The  old  pilot — The  red  pole — A  corsair  of  Louisiana — The  old  times  of 
river  buccaneers— A  hint  for  a  story  writer — The  pirate's  death — The 


CONTENTS.  18 

'  FAei 
governor's  bride — A  bit  of  romance — Senator  Benjamin — His  ap- 
pearance— Discussion  and  talent — Tiie  intellect  of  the  Jews — Their 
ambition — President  of  the  United  States 302 

LETTER  XXXVIII. 

The  sugar  estate — Chateau  and  quartier — Sucrerie — Cost  of  opening  a    x 
sugar  estate — An  enchanting  scene — Signal  Ores — The  two  convents       ^ 
— Education  of  girls  therein — Dame  Ursula  and  her  legends — The 
influence  of  convents  over  the  minds  of  pupils — Romanism — Prayers 
and  pedes 309 

LETTER  XXXIX.y 

Descendants  of  the  French  in  Louisiana — View  from  n  balcony — Pass- 
ing steamers — Sugar  fields — A  Louisianian  chateau — Tiie  slave  village 
— Sugar  house — M.  de  Clery's  son — A  secret — Proposed  visit  to  New 
Orleans  —  An  engagement — Lovers  to  be  chosen  for  their  good 
temper.. 316 

LETTER  XL. 

Music  by  night  —  Isabel  —  Musquito-bars — The  carriage  road — The 
levee — Danger  of  the  dwellers  on  the  *'  coast" — What  a  crevasse  is 
— How  it  begins  and  is  stopped — The  authoress  guardian  over  a  lover 
— The  midnight  tocsin — A  conflagration — A  prayer  for  those  in 
danger 322 

LETTER  XLL 

First  impressions  of  a  city — The  foreign  aspect  of  New  Orleans — The 
Indian  war-whoop — The  conductor  and  the  old  lords  of  the  soil — The 
poodle-dog — The  Frenchman  and  his  bird — The  cake — The  conversa- 
tion with  the  prisoner  in  the  cage — The  grandpa  meets  his  family — 
The  joy  of  the  household — The  escapade — The  consternation  and  pur- 
suit.   328 

LETTER  XLIL 

Approach  to  the  city — Gardens  and  villas — Arrival  at  the  depot — An 
Irish  hackman — Chinaman  with    kites — Handsome  bouquet  seller — 
The  parrot  man — Isidore  buys  a  bouquet — The  drive  to  the  St.  Lonis 
-Its  palace-like  accommodations 334 


14  CONTENTS. 

LETTER  XLIII. 

nan 
The  leveo  at  New  Orleans — Ride  along  the  quay — The  ships  of  Sweden 
— Jenny  Lind,  Thorwaldsen,  and  Frederika  Bremer — The  half- 
masted  flags — The  ships  of  England,  France,  and  Spain — Wharf  for 
steamers — The  glory  and  splendor  of  commerce — The  fate  of  all  an- 
cient commercial  cities 338 

LETTER  XLIV. 

The  model  hotel-proprietor — Diplomas — Hotel-keeping  an  art  and  pro- 
fession— The  French  part  of  the  city — Shops — The  old  cigar-smoker 
— Indifference  to  observation  of  the  French — New  Orleans  composed 
of  two  cities — Children  even  speak  French — An  exile — A  German 
prince — nearly  all  languages  spoken  in  the  city 345 

LETTER  XLV. 

The  peculiarity  of  the  streets — ^Young  ladies  taught  philosophy — The 
Place  d'Armes  and  its  gay  scenes — Visit  to  the  cathedral — Veiled 
lady — The  confessional — Secret  of  power — The  picture  of  the  Pas- 
sion— Mariolatry — Reason  for  it  in  the  inseparability  of  the  Madonna 
and  Child— St.  Patrick's  cathedral— 111  built  church 362 

LETTER  XLVI. 

Return  to  the  country — Correction  of  error  caused  by  misplaced  notes 
— Nicolene — "Who  is  she? — Friendship  without  sight — A  greeting  to 
the  loved  unknown — A  wedding  in  prospect — Taxes  upon  taste — Isi- 
dore— Aunt  Cloe  icing  cakes — Bosting-way 360 

LETTER  XLVIL 

Danger  of  postponement  of  wedding — Objections  now  to  the  nuptials 
— Isidore  in  despair — Kate  the  consoler — Colonel  Peyton  condemns 
all  fashion — A  new  idea — M.  de  Clery  is  charmed  with  it — Whipping 
around  the  stump — The  excitement  of  preparation — What  daughters 
exchange  for  husbands — Blessings  on  the  happy  pair 364 

LETTER  XLVIIL 

A  wedding — Men's  curiosity — The  dogs,  birds,  and  sable  urchins  rejoice 
— Old  Bonus — A  howling  dog  supposed  to  be  an  ill  omen — Muzzled 
— The  visit  to  the  chapel — The  parson  and  his  mule — Beauty  of 
scenery — The  chapel — The  grave — Reflections  upon  life  and  death 
— Parting  with  the  bride  fills  her  heart  with  tears 371 


CONTENTS.  15 

LETTER  XLIX. 

PAOI 

The  cortege — Slave  costume — The  wreath  of  orange  blossoms — Beau- 
tiful girls — Twenty-four  bridesmaids — The  wedding — The  kissing — 
The  congratulations — Return  to  the  chateau — Dinner  party — Lost 
and  won  hearts — Betrayal  of  a  secret — Intended  departure  for  New 
York — An  old  maid  of  two  and  twenty 376 

LETTER  L. 

Preparations  for  Havanna — The  dignity  of  Webster — A  letter  to  Charley 
— The  unfledged  blue  bird — The  trouble  of  its  parents — Congress  of 
the  forest  dwellers — The  efforts  of  the  friends  of  the  unfortunate — 
Kate's  compassion — A  ladder  and  cotton — Moral  to  little  boys 382 

LETTER  LL 

Descending  the  Mississippi — The  Balize — Singular  appearance  of  the 
vessels — The  beauty  of  the  first  night  on  the  gulf — The  splendor  of 
Orion  and  Pleiades — Were  there  ever  seven  stars  ? — The  native 
poetry  of  children , 388 

LETTER  LTL 

Havanna — The  Moro  Castle — A  line  of  battle  ship — The  scenes  in  the 
streets  of  Havanna — The  British  flag — The  glory  of  America — The 
empire  of  republics — The  Triumviri — Who  takes  their  place? 394 

LETTER  LUL 

New  York — Neptune — Calm  seas — The  living  heart  under  the  sea — 
Vessels  met  in  the  ocean — Our  passengers  of  ten  nations — The  Is- 
raelite— What  is  a  Jew  ? — Has  he  a  country — The  future  commercial 
splendor  of  the  Israelites 399 

LETTER  LIV. 

The  departure  oversea — Leave  the  city — Cars  to  Boston — M.  de  Cressy 
— The  aspect  of  Boston — Literary  society — Germon — Mrs.  Partington 
— Her  literary  ambition  and  failure — Homeward  bound — Quiet  of  (he 
country 405 

LETTER  LV. 
My  native  village — The  scenes  at  home — The  visits  of  neighbors — The 
deacon  inquisitive — Bible  trees — The  new  dresses — Buttonhole  and 
his  seven  suits — The  proposition  to  print  a  book — The  proposed  title 
— Diffidence  of  the  authoress — Farewell  to  literature 410 


J 


M  CONTENTS. 

LETTER  LVI. 

PASS 

A  surprise — Marriage  of  Kate  nearly  three  years  ago — Letter  from  her 
friend,  the  editor — Letters  to  be  resumed — Little  Harry — Little  needles 
— Consent  to  write — Quiet  and  elegant  home — Kate  a  southern 
matron , 416 

LETTER  LVIL 

Mistaken  for  another — The  European  Miss  Conyngham — Letters  un- 
written of  a  tour — The  route  to  Thibodeaux — Bayous  and  boat-sail- 
iug-^Sugar  fields — Customs  of  the  people — Saturday  gatherings — 
The  barges  of  the  planters — A  charming  country 421 

LETTER  LVIILV 

Illawalla  or  Lover's  Lake — Beautiful  lawns — The  house  and  grounds 
— Imaginary  letter  of  the  editor — Description  of  a  southern  home — 
Kat«'s  criticisms — Homes  and  heaven — What  constitutes  a  home — 
The  words  of  Jesus — Cities  the  results  of  the  fall — Race  with  a  deer 
— The  Indian  lover's  death 430 

LETTER  LIX.  , 

The  picture — Aunt  Winny — Florette  and  Harry — Aunt  Winny's  expe- 
rience— The  voice  and  silver  trumpet — The  old  slave's  argument 
about  tongues — The  vision — The  preacher  and  baptism — The  miracle 
and  superstition  of  the  slave — Reflection  upon  negro  conversions — 
An  answer  to  an  inquiry 437 

LETTER   LX. 

Shopping — The  new  fashion — Chloe  and  the  mode — Dissertation  upon 
hats  and  fashion  generally — An  academy  of  fashions — A  suggestion 
to  the  ladies  of  America — A  good  result  from  an  American  court  of 
modes — Preparation  for  a  picnic 448 

LETTER  LXL 

The  commissariat's  department — Harry  and  the  doctor — The  baskets 
and  parcels  —  The  Xebec — the  floating  boudoir — Uncle  Ned  the 
steersman — The  two  sisters — Louis  the  lover — Harry  not  Cupid — The 
bayou — Breakfast  en  voyage — Accession  to  the  party — The  good 
wishes — Harry's  accomplishments 463 


CONTENTS.  17 

LETTER  LXII.  " 

Talkative  pens — Thibodeaus — Enter  La  Fourche — The  voyage  begun 
— The  torch-light  funeral  of  the  nun — The  goddess  Mary — The 
prophecy  and  a  little  theology — The  sugar  estate — The  savannahs — 
A  deer— An  alligator— The  Gulf,  ho  1 462 

LETTER  LXIIL^ 

Authors  and  money — The  sight  of  the  Gulf— Hoist  sail — The  sugar 
sloop — Gulf  trade — Children's  speeches—The  condition  of  the  slave. 
— Northern  interference — Southern  humanity — When  a  black  Moses 
is  wanted,  Heaven  will  send  him — The  anchoring — Tent  pitched — 
An  alarm 471 

LETTER  LXIV. 

Identity  of  authors — Speculations — Pen — Names — Our  tent  lodgings 
— The  Revenue  Cutter — Successful  sport — Visit  to  Barrataria  Bay 
— The  apparent  volcano  at  sea — The  sphericity  of  the  earth — The 
needle  and  light-ship — Lafitte's  Fort 482 

LETTER  LXV. 
The  summer  resort  of  Louisianians — The  Roman  Chapel — "  Mary  and 
Paul" — Adoration  of  the   mother — The  marquis — The  post-mistress 
and  her  brave  father — Captain   Hearn — Gentility — The  mound  and 
Indian  warrior — Bathing  and  swimming 491 

LETTER  LXVL 
Leave  the  Pass — The  Oregon — Lake  by  moonlight — The  beauty  of  the 
sea  by  night — Meeting  a  vessel — Grass  Patch — The  Fleet  Anchorage 
The  Cutter — Captain  Douglas  Ottinger,  inventor  of  the  Life  Car — 
Mobile — Its  bay  and  watering  places — Hotels 500 

LETTER  LXVILx/ 
The  Southern  clime — Society  in  Mobile — Beauty  of  suburbs — Society 
Madame  Le  Vert — Absent  in  Europe — An  adventurer  of  the  female 
sex  —  "  Noble   friends"  —  The   jewelry   discovery  —  Flight   of    the 
countess 505 

LETTER  LXVIIL-^ 
Leave  the  hospitalities  of  Mobile — Its  pleasant  people  and  fine  drives 
Sail  up  the  Alabama — Montgomery — Ring  left  at  the  hotel — Con- 
duotor'/j  promise — Augusta — Columbia  a  Paradise — Charleston   and 
South  Carolinians — The  Triumviri ., 513 

2 


18  CONTENTS. 

LETTER  LXrX. 

PAGB 

An  old  Virginia  Inn— First  Families— Walter  Raleigh — Scenery  of 
Virginia— The  son  of  nohles — The  Inn  parlor — Sumptuous  table — 
•Trip  to  Europe — Farewell 521 


THE  SUNNY  SOUTH; 


OB, 


THE  SOUTHERNER  AT  HOME. 


LETTER   I. 


Dear  Mr. : 

Not  that  you  are  very  "  dear"  to  me,  for'  I  never 
saw  you  in  all  my  life,  but  then  one  must  begin  their 
epistles,  and  as  everybody  says  dear,  and  don't  mean 
any  thing  by  it,  I  say  dear  too,  and  don't  mean  any 
thing  by  it,  so  don't  flatter  yourself  in  the  least ;  for, 
if  it  were  the  fashion,  and  the  whim  hit  my  fancy,  I 
should  just  as  likely  have  written  "  Bear."  You  edi- 
tors presume  so  much,  you  need  to  be  put  down. 

I  was  going  to  begin  my  letter  by  saying  why  I  call 
my  letters  "needles."  Not,  you  may  rest  assured,  be- 
cause they  are  likely  to  be  sharp  and  keen,  for  I  have 
no  doubt  that  they  will  be  vastly  dull,  but  one  must 
have  a  title,  and  what  must  one  do  for  one?  Simple 
'^Letters"  would  never  tempt  the  eye.  The  pill  must 
be  gilt.  You  would,  no  doubt,  laugh  very  good-hu- 
moredly  if  I  should  confess  to  you  that  I  have  been 

(19) 


2J0  THS   SUNNY   SOUTH ;    OR, 

^otliefing  my  poor  little  head  for  three  hours  to-day 
for  a  title.  A  celebrated  author  once  told  me, — for  I 
have  seen  such  lions  in  my  day,  and  talked  and  flirted 
with  these  lords  of  the  quill,  too, — that  he  thought  more 
of  his  "titles"  than  of  the  matter  of  his  books,  and 
that  was  no  slight  matter  either !  He  said  he  had 
sometimes  written  out  on  a  long  paper,  (like  a  subscrip- 
tion list,  I  suppose,)  a  score  of  names,  and  then  carefully 
studied  them,  fancied  how  they  would  take  the  eye  of 
the  lounger  in  the  book-stores,  or  the  passer-by,  who 
should  glance  at  the  big  poster :  he  even  used  to  go  so 
far  as  to  set  the  title  up  in  type,  an  amateur  fount  of 
which  he  kept  by  him  for  this  purpose,  before  he  fully 
fixed  upon  his  "  clap-trap." 

Now,  I  can  imagine  all  this  to  be  very  necessary,  and 
1  give  this  author  credit  for  no  inconsiderable  knowledge 
of  human  nature.  Half  the  novels  are  bought  by  their 
titles  by  half  the  world.  I  used  to  buy  them  so. 
When  I  took  this  weighty  fact  into  consideration,  I  was 
sore  perplexed.  "Letters"  I  was  resolved  not  to  have. 
"Epistles"  looked  like  the  New  Testament,  and  I  felt  it 
too  sacred  a  word  for  me  to  make  light  use  of ;  for  I  was 
very  properly  brought  up  to  reverence  any  thing  about 
the  Scriptures.  I  thought  of  "  Pen  and  Ink"  sketches — 
a  nice  title,  but  Mr.  Willis  had  invented  and  used  it : 
happy  gentleman  with  a  gift  for  happy  titles !  for  his 
"Pencillings  by  the  Way"  is  another  that  came  into  my 
head,  and  I  tried  every  way  to  parody  it,  but  I  couldn't 
manage  it  at  all,  and  gave  it  up.  I  thought  of  "  Dots 
and  Lines,"  but  somebody  had  got  it  before  me,  and  no- 
thing seemed  left  but  Dot  and  go  One;  when,  in  my 
troubles  I  pricked  my  finger  with  a  needle  that  was 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  21 

in  my  needle-book,  which  I  was  turning  and  turning 
in  my  fingers  while  I  was  cogitating  about  my  title.  In- 
stantly the  idea  flashed  upon  me,  and  the  words,  "Nee- 
dles from  my  Needle-Book  !"  I  seemed  to  read  in  the  air 
before  my  eyes.  For  fear  I  should  forget  the  happy 
combination,  I  scribbled  it  down  on  the  spot,  and  deter- 
mined to  adopt  it. 

No  doubt  you  will  expect  to  find  something  short 
and  shrewd,  ascetic  and  attic  in  my  articles,  but  I  pro- 
mise you  that  you  must  look  for  nothing  of  the  kind ; 
for  it  only  takes  great  authors  to  write  books  that  have 
nothing  to  do  with  their  titles,  nor  their  titles  with  them. 
The  only  defence  I  can  make  of  my  caption  is  that  it  is 
very  appropriate  to  my  sex,  being  a  fair  weapon  either 
of  offence  or  defence,  as  well  as  the  glittering  shuttle 
of  female  industry.  Would  you  believe  it,  sir,  my  pupil, 
a  wicked  rogue  of  a  beauty  of  sixteen,  (for  you  must 
know  I  am  a  governess,  and  but  nineteen  and  a  little 
over^  myself,)  she  has  seen  my  title,  and  says  I  had  bet- 
ter put,  "  Scissors"  to  it?     Scissors  and  Needles  !     Dear 

us,  ]Mr. !   what  would  you  have  thought  to  have 

opened  my  package,  and  had  this  title  met  your  asto- 
nished editorial  eyes  ? 

"SCISSORS  AND  NEEDLES:" 

"by  A   YANKEE   GIRL." 

You  have  had  in  this  specimen  a  touch  of  my  South- 
western pupil's  mischief,  and  you  shall  know  more  of 
her  by-and-by,  perhaps,  if  you  print  this  letter  and  don't 
say  any  thing  saucy  about  it ;  for  editors,  who  have  lady 
correspondents,  ought  to  be  exceedingly  well-behaved  and 
mannerly,  and  appreciate  the  honor  done  them.-    Now, 


22  THE   SUNNY    SOUTH;    OK, 

having  introduced  my  title  to  you,  how  shall  I  introduce 
myself  and  all  the  subjects  I  intend  to  let  my  pen  run 
on  about  ?     I  shall  not  give  you  my  name,  nor  give  you 
any  clue  to  it,  if  you  should  be  never  so  curious  to  find 
it  out ;    for  men  have  so  much  curiosity !    even  where 
there  will  be,  as  in  my  case,  nothing  worth  the  trouble 
of  finding  out,  for  I  am  not  so  vain  as  to  fancy  I  shall 
ever  be  worth  asking  after.     It  will  take  more  ink  and 
paper  than  I  shall  ever  destroy,  to  make  a  lady  who 
would  be  "literary"  singled  out  of  the  troupes  of  has 
bleu  that  fill  the  land  like  the  golden-winged  butterflies 
in  May.     But  I  will  do  what  I  can  to  please,  for  my 
poor,  innocent  pen  has  got  to  travel  a  weary  length,  and 
I  long  to  make  happy  more  than  one  dear  heart  in  this 
world.     Authorship  is  not  woman's  sphere  by  nature, 
but  by  circumstances  only.     Oh,  how  many  a  gentle 
lady  has  the  needle  of  poverty  pricked  on  to  seize,  with 
trembling  fingers,  the  awe-inspiring  pen  !  and  dip  it  into 
her  heart,  to  write  out  its  life  for  bread  !     Weary,  oh  ! 
weary  is  the  path  to  woman's  little  feet — the  path  fur- 
rowed deep  by  the  ploughshare  of  penury.     In  the  fur- 
rows she  drops  the  seeds  of  hope,  and  waters  them  with 
tears.     It  is  a  rough  way  this  path  amid  types,  and  in 
the  hustle  for  popularity  and  pennies,  the  sex  is  not 
spared  by  the  ruder  ones,  and  the  critic's  iron  point, 
that  maddens  the  strong  man,  pierces  to  the  heart  the 
timid  woman  !     Yet,  once  started,  she  must  Avrite  or  die  ; 
or,  worse  still,  be  dependent ;  and  this,  to  a  proud  wo- 
man, is  the  first  death  of  this  world's  deaths. 

Do  not  think  I  am  going  to  charge  my  palette  with 
sombre  tints,  from  these  few  sentences  foregoing,  or  that 
I  am  in  tears  because  I  am  for  the  first  tiiae  taking  up 


TJIE   SOUTHEKNER   AT   HOME.  28 

the  fearful  pen  to  write  for  coins  of  silver.  I  am  young 
and  full  of  hope,  and  my  heart  bounds  with  cheerful 
thoughts.  I  do  not  speak  in  allusion  to  myself,  there- 
fore, when  I  say  that  it  is  a  sad  lot  for  a  woman  to  be 
compelled  to  toil  with  pen  and  ink  for  her  bread ;  for 
the  prospect  before  me  is  a  pleasing  one.  The  very 
idea  that  probably  I  shall  see  in  print  what  I  am 
writing,  (if  it  please  your  pleasure,  sir,  to  print  it, 
though  little  worth  it,  I  fear,)  fills  my  bosom  with  an  in- 
definable sensation  of  joy,  slightly  mingled  with  a  timid 
apprehension.  I  am  dying  to  see  myself  in  type;  not 
in  the  place  where  marriages  are  noticed ;  don't  naughtily 
misconceive  my  meaning,  sir ;  for  I  am  not  going  to  be 
married  till  I  enjoy  myself  sensibly  as  a  "young  woman," 
a  little  longer  yet.  My  situation  here  is  a  happy  one, 
and  if  I  only  lived  for  myself  I  should  not  put  pen  to 
paper;  for  I  am  blessed  with  all  I  require  to  make  me 
contented  and  grateful.  The  timid  apprehension,  I  feel 
when  I  look  forward,  arises  from  a  creeping  doubt  which 
once  in  a  while  coils  itself  around  the  tree  of  hope  in  my 
heart,  touching  the  acceptance  of  my  communications; 
for  this  doubt  insinuates,  with  very  serpent-like  wicked- 
ness, that  I  shall  not  be  proved  to  be  clever  enough  to 
write  any  thing  worth  the  printing.  But  "hope,  and 
hope  on,"  is  the  motto  of  my  adoption,  and  I  shall  not 
despair :  I  never  could  despair.  It  seems  to  me  that  if 
I  stood  alone,  the  last  one  alive,  upon  a  burning  wreck 
in  the  mid  Mediterranean,  I  should  not  despair,  but  be- 
lieve that  rescue  would  come. 

This  letter  is  only  an  introductory  needle,  a  sort  of 
autorial  probe,  to  feel  the  way;  or  rather  like  the  first 


24  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

needle  placed  in  an  electrical  battery,  to  be  increased 
afterwards  in  number,  as  the  patient  will  bear. 

Your  correspondent, 

Kate. 

Dated  from  Overtok  Park,  beyokd  the  An-EanANiEs. 

P.  S.  In  my  next,  I  will  tell  you  something  about  our 
Manor-house,  and  how  this  West-south  land  strikes  the 
eye  of  one,  cradled  as  I  have  been,  among  the  Granite 
Mountains  of  the  Pilgrim  Land. 


THE   SOUTHERNER    AT   HOME.  25 


LETTER    II. 

It  -wrould  no  doubt  please  you,  Mr. ,  to  learn 

something  about  us  here  at  Overton  Lodge — for  this  is 
the  name  of  the  fine  old  Western  Homestead  for  -which 
T  have  exchanged  my  cold,  yet  warm-hearted  northern 
clime.  Overton  Lodge,  then,  please  to  know,  is  a  large, 
commodious  mansion  of  brick,  square  and  stately,  with  a 
double  storied  portico  in  front,  from  the  upper  gallery 
of  which  is  one  of  the  finest  landscape  views  a  painter's 
eye — even  the  eye  of  the  deathless  Cole — would  care  to 
banquet  on.  In  Tennessee?  you  will  say,  with  a  quizzi- 
cal movement  of  the  under  lip,  and  an  incredulous  drop- 
ping of  the  outward  corner  of  the  nether  eyelid.  Yes, 
in  Tennessee,  sir,  for  Overton  Park  is  in  this  Western 
Empire  State.  But,  to  my  sketch — and  don't  interrupt 
me  sir,  for  any  doubts  about  the  verity  of  my  writings, 
for  I  never  romance ;  ladies  can  write  something  besides 
romances,  sir! 

From  this  upper  portico  the  view  stretches  for  miles 
and  leagues  away,  to  a  blue  range  of  boldly  beautiful 
hills,  that,  when  the  atmosphere  is  a  little  hazed,  seem 
to  be  the  blue  sky  itself  bending  down  to  repose  upon 
the  undulating  sea  of  forests,  at  their  base.  Between 
these  azure  walls  that  bound  our  horizon  westward,  and 
the  mansion,  lie  belts  of  noble  woodland,  intermingled 
with  green  intervals,  through  which  wind  transparent, 


26  THE   SUNNY    SOUTH;    OK, 

rock-channeled  rivulets,  (they  would  call  them  rivers  in 
England,)  bordered  by  fringes  of  maple,  sycamore,  and 
oak  trees,  opulent  with  verdure. 

Nearer  the  house,  comprising  the  first  breadth  of  view, 
a  mile  and  a  half  in  width,  stretch  right  and  left  the  rich 
cotton  and  tobacco  fields,  like,  in  the  distant  coup  d'ceil, 
lakes  of  blue  and  green  water,  slightly  ruffled  by  the 
breeze;  while  their  level  surface  is  relieved  at  pretty  in- 
tervals by  islands  of  trees — half  acre  clumps  grouped  in 
groves,  and  left  by  the  overseer  for  shade,  where  slaves 
can  retire  in  the  fervid  noon,  to  eat  their  coarse  but 
abundant  dinner,  doubtless  to  them  savory  as  Parisian 
cuisinerie.  The  picturesque  aspect  of  these  grove-islands 
is  enhanced  by  the  white  walls  of  a  negro-shelter-hut, 
which  is  built  upon  columns  to  afi"ord  protection  from  the 
rain. 

The  "Lodge,"  being  placed  with  an  eye  to  the  capa- 
bilities of  the  surrounding  prospect,  upon  a  gently  rising 
eminence,  which  is  clothed  with  gardens,  to  its  foot,  has 
a  very  imposing  appearance,  as  it  is  approached  along  a 
winding  carriage-way,  that  leads  to  it  from  the  stage 
road.  This  is  at  least  a  league  off,  and  its  place  can  be 
indicated  on  dusty  days  from  the  house,  by  clouds  of 
reddish  brown  dust  rolled  into  the  air  and  curling  along 
the  hedges,  disturbed  by  the  heavy  wheels  of  the  mail 
coach,'  or  the  lighter  progress  of  some  planter's  carrkge 
on  its  way  from  town. 

•  It  seemed  to  me  when  I  first  came  in  sight  of  the 
mansion,  that  was  to  be  (I  don't  know  how  long)  my 
home,  that  I  was  approaching  the  mansion  of  some 
English  Baronet,  at  least ;  and  the  scenery  of  this  part 
of  Tennessee,  I  am  told,  bears  a  striking  resemblance  to 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  27 

that  in  the  best  part  of  England ;  and  I  can  bear  testi- 
mony that  the  neighboring  gentlemen  are  vying  in  taste 
and  wealth  with  each  other,  to  make  this  country  one  of 
the  most  lovely  in  the  land.  For  you  must  know  that 
this  is  an  opulent  district,  and  the  planters  here  count 
their  estates  rather  by  miles  than  acres. 

I  have  described  only  the  view  in  front  of  this  stately 
edifice,  from  which  I  am  writing  you.  From  a  little 
balcony  that  opens  from  my  chamber  window  south,  I 
get  a  view  of  a  vale  and  upland,  dotted  with  sheep  and 
cattle,  tended  by  a  blind  negro  boy,  who  whistles  all 
day,  and  I  have  no  doubt  sleeps  soundly  all  night;  who, 
with  his  dog,  complete  a  very  nice  picture  of  its  kind. 
The  crest  of  the  upland  is  topped  by  a  wood,  out  of 
which,  just  where  the  acclivity  dips  eastward,  stares  a 
huge,  bald,  gray  rock,  in  shape  as  much  like  a  lion's  head, 
as  either  of  the  heads  of  those  lions  on  your  Exchange 
steps  in  Philadelphia,  for  which  I  am  credibly  informed 
that  a  famous  dog,  belonging  to  a  Monsieur  Gardel,  a 
talented  gentleman  of  your  city,  sat ;  and  very  good  lions 
they  are — very  like  lions !  If  I  recollect  right,  this  dog, 
who  sat  as  a  model  for  a  pair  of  lions,  was  called  "  Nep- 
tune." 

I  remember  once  seeing  him  at  West  Point,  and  falling 
in  love  with  him,  (with  "Nep,"  not  Monsieur  G.,)  when 
I  was  about — about — let  me  see — thirteen. 

But  let  me  finish  my  scenery.  This  lion's-head  rock 
hangs  over  a  deep  tarn,  where  at  mid-day,  the  water  is 
black  and  polished  as  glass  ebon ;  and  near  the  tarn,  not 
five  yards  from  its  margin,  rises  thirty  feet  in  height,  a 
green  pyramid,  one  of  the  sepulchral  mounds  of  the  noble, 


28  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

brave,  mysterious  Indians,  now  wasted,  as  McLellan,  one 
of  the  New  England  poets,  says, 

*'  Like  April  snows 
In  the  warm  noon," 

before  the  burning  radiance  of  the  sun  of  civilization. 
On  the  east  side  of  the  mansion,  there  is  quite  a  different 
view  from  either  I  have  described.  First,  the  eye  rests 
on  a  vast  vegetable  and  fruit  garden,  a  score  of  good 
roods  broad,  crossed  by  wide  graveled  walks,  dotted 
with  hot-houses,  and  enclosed  by  a  white  paling,  half- 
concealed  in  a  luxuriant  hedge  of  the  thorny  and  beautiful 
Cherokee  rose.  At  two  corners  of  the  garden  erected 
on  high  places,  is  perched  a  monstrous  pigeon  house,  to 
and  fro,  above  and  about  which  its  soft  winged  tenants 
are  flying  in  clouds  at  all  times,  like  the  scriptural  doves 
to  their  windows. 

Of  all  birds,  I  love  the  dove,  the  home  dove,  with  its 
blue  and  brown  breast,  its  affectionate,  trustful  glance, 
and  its  musical,  happy  coo.  I  have  loved  them  in  the 
streets  of  my  native  town  from  a  child,  and  stopped  and 
"watched  them  till  I  forgot  school  hour,  and  dinner  hour, 
as  they  fluttered,  hopped,  sidled,  and  pranced  about  the 
fallen  oats  under  the  farmer's  cart,  or  crowded  about  the 
shop  doors. 

I  never  failed  to  have  my  pocket  filled  with  grain  and 
crumbs  for  them,  and  I  cannot  noAV  but  smile  at  the  re- 
collection of  myself,  at  twelve  years  old,  seated  on  a 
curb-stone,  surrounded,  and  lit  upon,  and  run  oyer,  and 
almost  had  my  eyes  put  out  by  their  wings,  ias  they 
eagerly  shared  my  bounty  out  of  my  hands  and  lap. 
Many  a  black  mark  at  school  for  tardiness,  and  many  a 


• 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  29 

scolding  at  home  have  I  to  lay  to  the  account  of  the  blue 
doves.  Yet  I  love  them  still ;  and  ere  long  thej  will  find 
out — these  in  the  dove-cotes — that  they  have  a  friend 
near;  and  I  dare  say  in  my  little  balcony,  ere  I  have 
been  here  a  month,  will  be  enacted  the  street  scenes  of 
my  girlish  days. 

Beyond  the  garden  is  a  large  pond  or  lake,  and  on  the 
declivity  of  the  opposite  shore  appears,  half  hid  in  the 
trees  of  its  pretty  streets,  one  of  the  most  novel  and 
striking  towns  I  ever  beheld.  It  is  the  "  Quartier"  or 
African  village  of  the  estate,  the  Negropolis  of  the  slave 
population.  It  is  composed  of  some  thirty  dwellings, 
white-washed,  one  story  high,  arranged  on  two  streets 
that  follow  the  margin  of  the  pond.  Each  cottage  is 
neat  and  comfortable,  with  a  small  garden  patch  behind 
it ;  and  in  front  are  rows  of  shade  trees  for  the  whole 
length  of  the  street,  growing  near  enough  to  each  house 
to  afford  shade  to  the  roofs.  The  streets  themselves  are 
green  sward,  intersected  by  well-trodden  footpaths  which 
lead  from  door  to  door. 

Overlooking  them  all,  and  a  little  higher  up  the  gentle 
ascent,  is  a  house  of  more  pretension,  built  of  brick,  with 
a  belfry  at  one  end,  containing  a  bell  as  loud  as  a 
church  bell,  which  I  hear  rung  every  morning  at  day- 
break, and  at  noon,  and  at  nine  o'clock  -at  night.  This 
house  belongs  to,  or  rather  is  occupied  by,  the  overseer,  or 
manager,  as  these  gentlemen  prefer  being  designated. 
Over  this  house  rises  a  majestic  range  of  mountainous 
heights,  of  great  beauty,  from  the  summit  of  one  of 
which,  three  miles  off,  and  which  is  designated  bv  a 
single  scathed  tree  rising  from  a  bosom  of  foliage,  ii  v;cw 


30  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

can  be  obtained,  with  a  good  glass,  of  the  citj,  six 
leagues  or  thereabouts  to  the  north ;  and  also  of  one  of 
the  shining  windings  of  the  romantic  Cumberland,  as 
it,  for  a  mile  or  two,  leaves  its  embracing  cliffs  to  roll 
gloriously  along  in  the  cloudless  sunlight. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT    HOME.  31 


LETTER  III. 

Tou  will  have  formed  some  idea,  Mr. ,  from 

the  descriptions  in  my  last,  of  the  characteristics  of  the 
place  from  which  I  write  these  communications.  Yoif 
will  perceive  that  I  am  domiciliated  in  one  of  those  fine 
old  mansions  of  the  West  where  the  lordly  proprietors 
live  more  like  feudal  nobles  than  simple  farmers.  In  the  • 
bosom  of  this  beautiful  scenery  which  I  have  endeavored  to 
picture  to  you,  and  within  the  walls  of  this  hospitable 
abode,  I  hope  to  make  my  home,  at  least  for  two  years 
to  come. 

Perhaps  you  would  like  to  know  something  about  me 
before  I  came  here  to  assume,  at  the  age  of  nineteen,  the 
grave  and  responsible  position  of  governess.  I  am  quite 
willing  to  gratify  your  curiosity.  But  first  let  me  de- 
scribe to  you  what  is  now  passing  beneath  my  window, 
for  I  write  within  full  sight  of  the  lawn.  There  I  can 
see  Colonel  Peyton,  the  father  of  my  pupil,  seated  upon 
a  finely  formed  bay  nag,  a  rifle  laid  carelessly  across  his 
saddle,  and  two  fine  deer-dogs  standing  by  his  horse's 
forelegs  and  looking  up  wistfully  into  their  master's  face. 
He  has  upon  his  head  a  broad-brimmed,  white  beaver, 
turned  up  in  front,  something  after  the  fashion  of  the  an- 
cient cocked  hat,  a  manner  of  wearing  it  that  lends  him, 
with  his  manly  features  and  silver  gray  locks,  a  decided 
military  air.     Over  a  brown  linen  hunting  frock  is  slung  a 


82  ■  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH ;    OR, 

leather  belt,  appended  to  which  is  his  powder-horn  and 
shot-bag ;  and  with  his  boots  drawn  d  la  Hussar,  over  his 
trowsers,  and  armed  with  silver  spurs,  he  sits  accoutred  for 
the  field,  a  handsome  specimen  of  an  American  Western 
gentleman  preparing  for  a  hunt.  Standing  just  in  front 
of  his  stirrup  is  a  negro  fifty  years  of  age,  (about  his 
master's,)  his  old  straw  hat  in  his  hand  and  his  head  bont 
forward  in  an  attitude  at  once  respectful  and  attentive, 
listening  to  orders  from  his  master. 

"  You  hear,  Pete,  that  as  soon  as  the  young  gentlemen 
arrive,  you  are  to  mount  the  filly  and  bring  them  to  the 
wood." 

"  Yiss,  massa  !"  and  Peter  bowed  like  a  thorough-bred 
gentleman,  so  courteous  was  the  air  with  which  he  bent 
his  head. 

"  You  will  find  me  either  at  the  Crow's  Pine,  or  else 
about  the  Salt  Lick.     See  that  they  bring  their  guns." 

"  Yiss,  massa!" 

"And  don't  let  that  noisy  whelp  of  yours,"  here  the 
colonel  cracked  his  whip-lash  at  a  wretched,  shaggy 
monster  of  a  dog  that  crouched,  as  if  fully  conscious  of 
his  bad  reputation,  behind  the  legs  of  the  negro  ;  "  don't 
let  him  come  into  the  forest  again  ;  if  he  does,  I'll  hang 
him.     He  spoiled  our  sport  last  Thursday." 

•"  I  know  he  did,  mass'.  He  berry  ignorum  dog,  some- 
time ;  he  nebber  hab  much  telligencts  like  odder  gemmen 
dogs,  massa;  but  Injun  shan't  come  dis  time." 

The  colonel  now  pointed  with  the  end  of  his  riding 
whip  to  a  gate,  which  Peter  hastened  to  open ;  standing 
bare-headed  till  his  master  rode  through  it;  and  then 
closing  it  he  returned  to  the  house,  the  villainous-looking 
dog  Injun  capering  about  him,  as  much  overjoyed  at 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  S|3 

being  released  from  the  awe  of  the  coloncrs  eye,  as  a 
roguish  school-hoy  when  the  "master"  steps  out. 

"You  mighty  grad,  Injun,  aint  you?"  I  overhear 
Peter  say  to  his  companion,  *'  but  you  better  keep  quiet 
and  min'  you'  business  at  home,  or  sure  'nuff  massa  '11 
hab  you  hang'd.  You  a'n't  fit  hunt  deer  like  de  gem- 
men's  genteel  dog,  you  nigger  you;  all  you  do  is  frighten 
'em  away  from  de  stan',  and  keep  massa  and  oder  gem- 
men  from  gettin'  shot  at  'em,  you  scar'crow!  Massa 
sarve  you  right  he  shoot  you,  Injun!" 

Peter's  voice  was  lost  as  he  went  with  a  limping  shuffle 
around  the  house.  I  can  see  the  noble  form  of  the 
colonel  as  his  horse  bears  him  along  the  avenue,  and  so 
out  across  the  green  dell  at  an  easy  pace.  Now  he  stops 
to  speak  to  the  poor  blind  shepherd  boy,  who  raises  his 
cap,  and  seems  happy  to  be  noticed.  The  sheep  start 
and  bound  away  before  the  horse's  feet,  and  the  lazy  kine 
slowly  give  him  the  path.  Now  he  winds  about  the  base 
of  the  lion's  head  cliff,  and  is  now  lost  to  sight  in  the 
dark  grove  of  elm  and  maple  that  half  conceals  the  tarn. 
Above  his  head  wheels  the  black-winged  vulture  in  ap- 
proaching circles,  as  if  he  well  knew  that  there  was 
always  blood  to  be  found  in  the  hunter's  path. 

I  will  return  to  my  room,  and  resume — myself!  But  I 
am  again  interrupted.  The  ajar  door  of  my  elegant 
apartment  opens,  and  a  negress  of  sixteen  enters  with  a 
silver  cup  of  water,  upon  a  silver  salver.  She  is  bare- 
footed, and  her  head  is  bound  with  a  gay  handkerchief 
tastefully  and  uniquely  twisted  into  a  sort  of  oriental 
turban ;  for  the  taste  of  these  daughters  of  Africa  is  in- 
stinctively Eastern.  A  blue  cotton  gown  completes  her 
simple  attire,  save  a  pair  of  bright  brass  ear-rings,  and 


34  THE   SUNNY   SOuflf;    OR, 

a  couple  of  brass  and  one  silver  ring  upon  her  shapely 
fingers;  for  her  hands,  and  fingers,  and  finger  nails, 
though  the  former  are  brown  as  a  chestnut,  are  exquisitely 
shaped.  Ugly  hands  seem  to  belong  to  the  Anglo  Sax- 
ons, I  think,  especially  to  those  of  cold  climates ;  for  the 
farther  we  go  south,  the  more  elegant  the  female  hand. 

The  name  of  the  African  maid  is  Eda,  which  is,  I 
suppose,  a  corruption  of  Edith.  She  was  given  to  my 
charge  as  my  waiting-woman,  on  the  first  evening  of  my 
arrival  here ;  and  by  night  she  sleeps  on  a  rug  at  the 
door  of  my  chamber.  At  first,  I  was  shocked  and 
alarmed  to  have  a  negress  sleep  in  the  chamber  with  me ; 
but  now,  I  am  so  accustomed  to  her  presence,  and  she  is 
so  willing,  so  watchful,  so  attentive,  so  useful,  that  I  am 
quite  reconciled  to  having  her.  "Missis,  glass  water, 
please?"  she  said,-  curtseying,  and  dropping  her  large 
lustrous  eyes  with  habitual  submission,  as  she  presented 
the  salver. 

.  I  had  not  asked  for  water,  but  I  find  that  it  is  the 
custom  for  some  one  of  the  servants  to  go  over  the  house 
several  times  a  day  to  every  person,  wherever  they  hap- 
pen to  be,  whether  on  the  portico  walking,  or  in  the 
library  reading,  or  even  pursuing  them  into  the  garden 
to  ofier  them  water.  This  is  a  hospitable,  and  in  the 
hot  weather  of  this  climate,  a  refreshing  custom.  South- 
erners are  all  great  water  drinkers.  At  evening,  when 
we  are  seated  on  the  piazza,  enjoying  the  beauty  of  the 
western  skies,  sherbet,  water,  fruit,  and  even  ice  creams 
have  been  brought  out  to  us.  Indeed,  there  seems  to  be 
some  useful  person  continually  engaged  in  some  myste- 
rious corner  of  this  large  house,  preparing  luxuries  to 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  85 

dispense  through  the  day  to  the  inmates,  and  to  chance 
visitors,  of  which  there  are  not  a  few. 

When  I  first  arrived  here,  and  it  has  heen  scarcely  a 
month — I  was  amazed  at  the  number  of  servants.     There 
are  no  less  than  seven  in  the  house,  and  full  as  many 
more  connected  with  the  gardens,  stables,  and  for  out- 
door domestic  duty,  beside  the  two  hundred  plantation 
hands  that  work  always  in  the  field  as  agriculturists ;  for 
the  domestic  slaves  and  the  field  slaves  are  two  distinct 
classes  on  an  estate  like  this,  and  never  interchange 
labor,  save  indeed,  when  a  refractory  house  servant  is 
sometimes  sent  into  the  field,  to  toil  under  the  hot  sun 
as  punishment,  for  a  week  or  so.     And  the  difierence  is 
not  merely  in  employment,  but  in  character  and  appear- 
ance.    The  field  servant  is  heavy,  loutish,  and  slow;  his 
features  scarce  elevated  in  expression  above  the  mule, 
which  is  his  co-laborer.     The  domestic  servant  is  more 
sprightly,  better  clad,  more  intelligent  and  animated,       , 
apes  polite  manners,  and  imitates  the  polished  airs  of  the  i/ 
well-bred  "white  folk."     By  contact  constantly  with  the  "^ 
family,  they  use  better  language,  have  their  faculties 
sharpened,  and,  in  a  dozen  ways,  show  their  superiority 
to  the  less  favored  helots  of  the  plough.     This  superior-  * 
ity  they  love  to  exhibit,  and  I  have  been  amused  at  their 
assumption  of  hauteur  when  they  had  occasion  to  hold 
intercourse  with  any  of  the  "field  hands,"  sent  to  the- 
house  on  an  errand. 

Altogether  the  house  servants  are  very  difierent  crea- 
tures. Four  of  them  have  intelligent  faces,  are  excel- 
lent pastry-cooks,  laundresses,  dairywomen,  and  seam- 
stresses, and  seem,  really,  to  take  as  much  part  and 


o6  THE  SUNNY  south;  op., 

lively  interest  in  household  matters  as  the  matron,  their 
mistress. 

"  Can  you  read,  Eda?"  I  asked  of  my  little  Timhuctoo 
maid,  as  I  replaced  the  silver  tumbler  on  the  waiter. 
"No,  Missis,"  and  her  large  velvet-black  eyes  danced  in 
their  wide  pearly  spheres,  as  if  she  thought  it  would  be  a 
fine  thing  to  know  how. 

"I  know  spell  my  name,  missis.  Missy  Bel  teach  me 
dat!" 

In  my  next  you  shall,  certainly,  have  a  little  account 
of  myself;  but  I  feel  myself  of  so  little  importance,  that 
the  least  thing  tempts  my  pen  away  from  the  egotistical 
theme. 

Yours  respectfully, 

Kate  C. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  8? 


LETTER    IV. 

Just  as  I  was  about  to  drop  my  pen  into  my  ink- 
stand to  commence  this  epistle,  the  clear,  startling  cry 
of  a  hunter's  horn  in  the  forest  drew  me  to  the  window, 
which  overlooked  the  south,  and  the  cliflf  called  the 
Lion's  head.  Just  emerging  from  the  wood  was  a  caval- 
cade, that  reminded  me  of  something  of  a  similar  de- 
scription Scott  has  in  one  of  his  romances.  First,  there 
rode  the  colonel,  our  "lord  of  the  manor,"  bare-headed, 
his  gun  laid  across  his  saddle-bow,  and  his  hunting  skirt 
open  at  the  collar,  and  thrown  negligently  back  over  his 
shoulders.  By  his  side  were  some  half  dozen  dogs, 
trotting  along  with  their  red  tongues  lolling  out  and  look- 
ing, for  all  the  world,  thoroughly  beat  out  with  the  day's 
chase.  Behind  the  colonel  came  a  negro,  mounted,  with 
a  wounded  dog  laid  across  the  neck  of  his  horse.  Be- 
hind the  negro,  riding  on  elegantly  shaped  horses,  cantered 
two  young  men,  one  of  them  very  handsome,  but  dressed 
in  a  frock  coat,  and  gaiters  of  blue  cottonade.  His  rifle 
was  slung  at  his  back ;  he  was  belted,  and  a  knife  and  a 
powder  flask  were  in  his  girdle.  His  companion  was 
more  fashionably  dressed,  and  instead  of  a  rifle  carried 
only  a  light  bird  gun.  In  the  rear  followed  two  negro 
men  on  foot,  bearing  between  them  a  slain  deer,  slung 
by  the  fetlocks  to  a  newly-cut  branch.  Two  or  three 
African  boys,  and  some  half  dozen  more  dogs  completed 


38  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OK, 

the  cortege.  One  of  the  young  men  (the  handsome  one 
in  the  kerseys)  carried  a  horn,  which,  ever  and  anon,  he 
wound  cheerily  to  give  notice  at  the  Lodge  of  their  ap- 
proach. So  I  will  leave  them  to  make  their  way  to  the 
house,  and  fulfil  the  promise  made  in  my  last,  to  let  you 
understand  why  a  Yankee  girl  finds  herself  a  dweller  in 
the  far  South-west. 

Shall  I  begin  in  the  true  romantic  vein,  Mr. ,  or 

in  the  style  biographique?  I  think  I  will,  for  the  sake 
of  trying  my  forte  that  way,  assume  the  manner  of  the 
tale- writers ;  for  perhaps  one  of  these  days,  who  knows? 
I  may  get  to  the  dignity  of  being  a  story-writer  to  the 
Ledger  or  magazines,  a  distinction  (all  things  being  equal 
— that  is,  the  quid  being  equal  to  the  quo  as  my  brother 
used  to  say)  I  should  feel  highly  honored,  I  confess,  to 
arrive  at.     Now  to  my  own  story : 

Once  upon  a  time  there  stood  in  a  New  England 
village,  not  far  from  Portland  in  Maine,  a  little  cottage, 
white,  with  a  portico  trellised  by  honeysuckles,  and  a 
little  gate  in  the  paling  in  the  front  of  it.  The  cottage 
stood  upon  a  quiet  street,  near  the  outskirts  of  the 
village,  and  was  so  near  the  river-bank,  that  I,  who  was 
one  of  the  "cottagers,"  could  toss  pebbles  into  its  lucid 
bosom  from  my  window.  It  was  a  quiet  spot,  this  village 
with  its  garden-buried  houses,  its  one  tin-plated  spire, 
shining  in  the  sun  like  a  silver  "extinguisher,"  its  green 
river  shores,  and  pleasant  woodlands  where  the  boys  had 
famous  bird's-nesting  of  Saturday  afternoons. 

My  father,  a  naval  ofiicer  of  name  and  honor,  fell 
sick  and  died  on  a  foreign  station,  leaving  my  mother 
with  six  little  mouths  to  feed,  and  six  little  backs  to  keep 
warm,  and  six  little  heads  to  fill  with  learning.     To  aid 


THE    SOUTHERNER    AT    HOME.  S9 

her  to  do  all  this,  she  received  a  narrow  pension  allowed 
her  for  her  widowhood.  It  was  a  sore  struggle  for  the 
mother  to  guard  and  nourish  and  cover  her  large  hrood 
with  such  narrow  wings.  Her  widowed  feathers  would 
hardly  cover  us  all,  and  some  of  us  always  were  suf- 
ferers, either  for  supper,  a  pair  of  shoes,  or  may  be  a 
frock,  or  jacket,  or  a  necessary  school-book. 

But  Providence  takes  care  of  the  widow,  and  so  none 
of  us  perished  ;  nay,  were  ever  sick,  and  what  with  kind 
neighbors,  (oh,  how  many  hind  neighbors  there  are  in  the 
world !)  what,  with  presents  of  Christmas-days,  Thanks- 
giving-days, and  the  blessed  Common-school  where  we  all 
went  without  cost,  we  managed  to  weather  the  beginning 
of  life  bravely. 

Charles,  my  elder  brother,  through  the  kindness  of 
the  member  of  Congress  from  our  district,  had  his  name 
presented  to  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy  for  a  midship- 
man's warrant ;  but,  none  ofifering,  soon  the  same  kind 
influence  placed  him  in  West  Point  as  a  cadet,  and  now 
he  is  a  lieutenant,  and  won,  though  it  is  a  sister's  praise, 
a  distinguished  name  on  the  fields  of  Mexico.  If  I  dared 
name  him,  sir,  you  would  at  once  bear  testimony  to  the 
truthfulness  of  my  eulogy. 

The  second  child,  a  daughter,  after  as  good  an  edu- 
cation as  the  village  school  ofi"ered,  was  chosen  at  the 
age  of  sixteen  as  its  assistant,  and  after  three  years  she 
married  a  young  minister,  near  Norfolk,  Ya.,  who  sub- 
sequently went  abroad  as  a  missionary,  and  is  now  a 
resident  in  a  far,  far  land. 

The  third  child  was  a  son,  who,  inspired  by  the  tales 
of  his  father's  exploits  on  the  ocean  during  the  war, 
went  to  sea,  before  the  mast,  as  he  said,  "to  win  a 


40  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

name."  Seven  years  have  elapsed  since  his  departure, 
and  he  has  not  been  heard  from,  and  I  fear  that  we  shall 
meet  no  more  in  this  life.  He  was  a  noble,  bold,  chival- 
rous boy,  and  my  mother's  joy  !  If  he  is  alive,  I  know 
that  he  is  yet  worthy  of  our  love  and  pride. 

The  fourth  child  is  your  humble  correspondent,  of  whom 
I  will  speak  when  I  have  dismissed  the  remaining  two. 

The  fifth  is  a  girl ;  but  alas !  she  is  an  invalid,  having 
a  lame  hip,  which  confines  her  to  the  house.  She  is  the 
loveliest  flower  of  our  family  parterre  !  Never  were  such 
deep,  dark,  glorious  eyes  as  hers  !  They  speak  !  Her 
face  is  exquisitely  shaped,  every  feature  as  soft  and  spi- 
ritual as  the  gentle  angel  faces  we  see  in  dreams !  I 
can  behold  her  now — the  enchanting  Ida,  seated  by  my 
mother's  knee  on  her  favorite  stool,  her  heavenly  face 
of  pure  intelligence  blended  with  love,  upturned  with  a 
smile.  She  is  now  sixteen,  but  there  is  so  much  wisdom 
in  her  eyes,  so  much  gravity  in  her  manner,  the  result 
of  suffering,  that  she  seems  twenty.  But  her  figure  is 
child-like,  and  faultless  as  that  of  the  chiseled  Greek 
Slave !  Noble  Ida !  If  thy  eyes  should  rest  on  these 
lines,  accept,  sweet  sister  mine,  this  tribute  of  love  and 
memory !  She  is  my  mother's  second  self,  the  partner 
of  her  hours,  the  confidant  of  her  heart's  secrets,  the 
angel  of  her  presence. 

The  sixth  is  a  boy,  a  buoyant,  laughing,  rollicking 
boy,  with  spirits  enough  in  him  for  half  a  dozen  girls, 
of  whom,  however,  he  is  as  shy  as  if  he  had  no  fine, 
handsome  face  to  commend  him  to  the  romping  hoydens. 
lie  is  fourteen  years  old,  and  the  hahy !  He  has  no 
idea  of  books,  and  never  could  bend  his  fingers  to  pen- 
holding.     His  genius  lies  in  kite-flying,  fishing,  rabbit- 


THE   SOUTHERNER    AT   HOME.  ^1 

(Snaring,  bird's-nesting,  boating  on  the  river,  and  in  rid- 
ing the  ministQp's  old  blind  horse  to  water,  full  gallop, 
a  feat,  (that  is,  the  galloping,)  the  minister  could  never 
succeed  in  getting  out  of  him.  This  brother  is  his  mo- 
ther's other  joy ;  or,  rather,  Ida  is  her  joy,  and  Preble 
(so  named  by  my  father  after  the  gallant  commodore) 
is  her  admiration. 

Now,  if  you  have  listened  as  becomes  you  to  listen 
when  a  "fayre  ladye"  speaks,  you  know  all  about  my 
family  and  myself.  No — not  myself.  Be  patient,  and 
you  shall  have  your  ignorance  enlightened  on  this  score. 
Shall  I  describe  myself?  or  shall  I  leave  you  to  guess 
that  my  height  is  five  feet  four,  that  my  hair  is  a  dark 
brown,  and  worn  smoothly  so  as  to  hide  both  ears  like  a 
coif,  and  knotted  behind  in  very  abundant  folds;  that 
my  cast  of  beauty  is  brunette ;  that  my  eyes  are  said  to 
be  like  my  sister  Ida's,  only  less,  that  is  to  say,  a  little 
more  saucy  in  their  brilliancy ;  that  my  nose  is  a  very 
good  nose  as  noses  go ;  that  I  have  a  good  mouth  and 
very  fine  teeth,  which  I  don't  show  too  much  when  I 
smile ;  that  I  usually  dress  in  white  in  summer  and  ma- 
roon in  winter,  and  that  my  hand  is — is — like  too  many 
of  the  hands  of  northern  maidens,  better  looking  in  a 
glove  than  out  of  one  ?  I  do  not  sing  at  all.  I  never 
was  taught  the  piano,  for  you  must  by  this  time  be  aware 
that  our  little  cottage  had  no  room  for  such  a  costly 
afi'air,  though  somehow  the  instrument  does  seem  to  find 
room  in  a  great  many  houses  too  small  for  it !  I  do  not 
dance,  for  we  had  no  dancing-school  in  our  village,  and 
our  mother  was  too  sensible  to  have  sent  me  to  one  if 
there  had  been.  She  knew  that  there  were  temptations 
enough  in  this  naughty  world  to  surround  young  people, 


42  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

without  adding  to  them  the  love  of  dancing,  -which 
tempts  many  a  sweet,  good  girl  into  many  a  folly,  after- 
wards bitterly  repented  of.  Parlor  dancing,  in  the  home 
circle,  where  grandpa  joins  in  it,  that  is  the  only  danc- 
ing that  is  truly  innocent  and  cheerful.  I  draw,  for  my 
mother  taught  me ;  I  sometimes  sketch,  and  color  my 
efforts  ;  I  speak  and  write  French,  being  taught  this  by 
my  brother  when  he  came  home  at  intervals  from  West 
Point.  I  have  mastered  German  and  Italian,  and  know 
enough  of  Spanish  to  pronounce  correctly  the  names  of 
all  our  victorious  battle-fields, — a  no  mean  acquisition  in 
itself,  they  are  so  numerous.  Lastly,  I  am  a  governess, 
and  am  aiming,  with  all  modest  difiidence  and  deference 
to  your  decisions,  dreadful  sir,  to  be  an  authoress. 

When  I  had  attained  my  fifteenth  year,  I  also  was  ad- 
vanced to  be  assistant  in  the  school  where  I  had  been 
educated  from  a  child.  After  two  years'  pleasant  toil, 
I  heard  that  in  Massachusetts  there  were  institutions, 
called  Normal  Schools,  where  young  females  were  edu- 
cated to  be  teachers.  Having  some  money,  the  fruits  of 
my  teaching,  I  applied  to  be  received  into  this  noble 
school,  and  after  due  time  I  received  my  diploma,  attest- 
ing my  qualifications  to  teach.  I  soon  obtained  a  school 
in  a  considerable  town,  and  had  no  expectations  of  doing 
any  thing  else  than  growing  gray  in  my  vocation,  when, 
about  a  year  and  a  half  after  I  had  come  to  the  town,  as 
I  was  locking  up  my  castle  one  evening  after  my  day's 
duties  were  over,  my  attention  was  drawn  to  a  handsome 
private  carriage  rolling  along  the  road.  In  it  sat  a  fine- 
looking  man,  with  the  unmistakeable  air  and  aspect  of  a 
Southerner,  and  by  his  side  was  a  young  girl  of  fifteen 
or  sixteen,  with  that  rich  olive  cheek  and  Italian  form 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  48 

of  face  which  distinguishes  the  maidens  of  our  more 
sunny  South. 

My  school-house  was  a  very  pretty  one,  with  a  hand- 
some portico,  green  blinds,  granite  steps,  a  grassy  yard, 
and  neat,  snow-white  fence,  while  trees  shaded  as  well 
as  adorned  the  premises.  I  saw  him  cast  his  eyes  over 
the  whole  with  a  pleased  look,  and  then  his  gaze  fell 
upon  me.  I  dropped  my  eyes,  and  taking  out  the  keys, 
put  them  in  my  bag,  and  was  turning  to  go  hoiiieward, 
when  I  saw  the  carriage  stop.  The  gentleman,  who  was 
a  man  of  fifty,  with  a  fine  bearing,  and  gray  and  brown 
locks  mingled  about  his  forehead,  raised  his  hat,  and 
courteously  beckoned  to  me  to  approach. 

"Pardon  me.  Miss,"  he  said,  in  that  half  apologetic 
tone  which  marked  the  thorough-bred  gentleman,  "  May 
I  take  the  liberty  to  inquire  if  you  are  a  teacher?" 

I  bowed  affirmatively. 

"  You  will  excuse  the  liberty  I  take,  but  I  am  desir- 
ous of  obtaining  a  teacher  to 'go  south-west  with  me, 
and  having  applied  to  the  Normal  School,  I  was  directed 
to  this  town  by  the  Principal,  who  told  me  that  there 
was  a  young  lady  here  whom  I  could,  no  doubt,  succeed 
in  employing.  As  he  spoke  so  highly  of  her,  and  gave 
me  her  address,  I  have  driven  here  to  have  an  interview 
with  her.  You  will  be  likely  to  know  her  abode,  and 
will  oblige  me  by  directing  me  to  it." 

"What  is  her  name,  sir?"  I  inquired. 

"Miss  Catharine  Conyngham,"  he  read  ofi"  from  the 
back  of  a  letter. 

I  started  with  surprise  and  pleased  confusion.  lie 
saw  my  embarrassment,  and  read  plainly  the,  secret  in 
my  tell-tale  face. 


44  THE  SUNNY  south;  or, 

"Perhaps,"  he  added,  with  a  look  of  gratification, 
"perhaps  I  have  the  pleasure  of  addressing  the  very- 
person — Miss  Conyngham  herself?" 

I  informed  him  that  I  was  that  person,  when,  inter- 
changing a  glance  of  satisfaction  with  the  young  lady, 
he  handed  me  the  letter,  and  requested  me  to  read  it ; 
but  first  that  I  must  get  up  into  the  carriage  and  sit 
down,  but  this  courtesy  I  declined,  and  breaking  the 
seal  I  read  as  follows : — But  I  will  defer  the  letter  to  my 
next,  as  I  am  invited  down  to  look  at  the  slain  deer  in 
the  back  gallerj. 

Yours, 

Kate. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  4S 


LETTER    V. 

I  HAVE  to  apologize  to  you,  sir,  for  not  keeping  you 
in  "Needles,"  and  I  hope  you  will  not  say  any  thing 
very  naughty,  because  you  have  not  heard  from  me  so 
long.  I  have  been  traveling,  and  could  not  devote  any 
time  to  my  pen.  You  know  that  it  is  the  custom  for 
planters  to  leave  their  homes  for  the  summer  months, 
and  tour  it;  and,  being  governess,  I,  of  course,  accom- 
panied our  family,  in  order  to  keep  up  my  pupils  in  their 
books,  though  little  book  was  learned,  be  assured,  either 
at  the  mountains  or  the  springs,  for  young  folks  have 
too  much  to  tempt  them  at  these  places  to  con  lessons. 

After  a  pleasant  summer  jaunt,  we  are  once  more  in 
our  lovely  home,  and  I  trust  I  shall  be  able  to  continue 
to  write  you  in  my  leisure.  Perhaps,  one  of  these  days, 
I  may  give  you  a  description  of  our  three  months  in  the 
Mountains  of  Cumberland,  and  at  the  Springs  of  Vir- 
ginia. I  will  now  resume  my  "Needles"  where  I  left 
off,  which,  perhaps,  you  will  remember  was  when  I  had 
just  shut  up  my  village  school,  and  broken  the  seal  of 
a  letter  handed  to  me  by  a  strange  gentleman  in  a  car- 
riage. The  letter  was  as  follows,  written  by  the  super- 
intendent of  the  State  Normal  School : — 

Normal  School. 

Dear  Miss  Conyngham: 

The  bearer  is  Colonel  Peyton,  a  planter  of  intelli- 
gence and  fortune,  who  wishes  a  governess,  who  will  be 


46  THE   SUNNY   south;    OPw, 

charged  with  the  education  of  his  daughter.  The  posi- 
tion seems  to  be  a  very  desirable  one,  and  I  would  re- 
commend you  to  accept  it,  if  he  should,  after  seeing  you, 
oflfer  it  to  you. 

Truly  your  friend, 
B.  W. 

Upon  reading  this  epistle,  I  looked  up  and  saw  the 
eyes  of  both  Colonel  Peyton  and  his  daughter  fixed  upon 
my  face,  as  if  trying  to  divine  the  effect  it  had  upon  me. 
The  gentle  eyes  of  the  maiden,  who  looked  earnestly  at 
me,  as  if  she  hoped  I  was  not  going  to  say  "no,"  and 
the  gentlemanly,  agreeable  manners,  and  the  fine  expres- 
sion of  the  father's  face,  decided  me  at  once.  "  If  the 
place  is  offered  to  me,"  said  I,  mentally,  "I  will  not 
refuse  it.  I  know  I  shall  be  happy  with  such  persons 
as  these."  Yet  I  hesitated  and  could  not  speak ;  for  I 
thought  of  my  little  pupils,  some  of  whom  had  entwined 
themselves  around  my  heart;  and  I  felt  reluctant  to 
leave  them. 

While  I  was  thinking  between  hope  and  sorrow  what 
answer  I  should  make — an  answer  that  would  perhaps 
govern  my  future  destiny — Colonel  Peyton  was  pleased 
to  say  kindly : 

"  I  fear.  Miss,  that  you  are  going  to  disappoint  us. 
The  high  terms  in  which  you  have  been  spoken  of  to  me, 
are  confirmed  by  seeing  you.  Are  you  willing  to  accept 
the  situation  alluded  to  in  the  letter  ?" 

I  hesitated.  My  eyes  filled  with  tears — tears  at  the 
thought  of  parting  with  my  school — tears  of  gratitude, 
that  I  was  thought  worthy  of  so  much  confidence. 

"Oh,  do  not  refuse — do   say  yes,"  cried  his  lovely 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  47 

daughter,  extending  her  hand,  and  clasping  mine  warmly 
in  her  own.  "  You  shall  be  my  eldest  sister,  and  I  will 
make  you  as  happy  as  I  can.  Please,  say  you  will  go 
with  us." 

"  I  cannot  refuse,"  said  I,  smiling  at  her  enthusiasm. 
"  If  your  father  wishes,  I  give  my  consent,"  answered 
I,  without  a  thought  about  terms :  for  I  felt  that  I  could 
be  happy  to  be  one  of  the  inmates  of  the  family,  and 
call  such  excellent  persons  "friends."  My  heart  seemed 
to  feel  like  a  daughter's  heart  towards  Colonel  Peyton, 
and  certainly  glowed  with  sisterly  love  towards  Isabel. 

"  The  matter  is  settled,  then,"  said  Colonel  Peyton, 
with  animation.  "  We  are  more  fortunate  than  we  anti- 
cipated. Come,  Miss  Katharine,  let  me  drive  ycu  to 
your  residence,  and  then  leave  you  to  make  preparations, 
while  we  remain  at  the  hotel." 

When  I  alighted  from  the  chariot  at  the  door  of  the 
house  in  which  I  boarded,  there  were  a  great  many  heads 
at  the  neighboring  windows,  to  see  the  fine  "  Boston 
carriage,"  as  they  called  it ;  and  when  they  soon  learned, 
by  the  cries  of  three  or  four  little  girls,  my  scholars,  that 
it  had  come  to  take  me  far  away  to  the  South,  there  was 
more  commotion  than  I  dreamed  such  a  body  as  I  could 
cause. 

When  I  made  known  to  my  landlady  and  to  the  neigh- 
bors, who  flocked  in  to  hear  the  news,  my  prospects, 
some  congratulated  me,  but  more  said  they  would  not 
part  with  their  "  school-mistress,"  that  it  would  break 
the  children's  hearts ;  and  the  children,  inspired  by  their 
words,  began  to  cling  round  me,  and  take  on  so  dread- 
fully, that  I  was  near  sending  over  word  to  the  tavern 


48  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

to  Colonel  Peyton,  withdrawing  my  consent  to  go  with 
him. 

In  half  an  hour  I  succeeded  in  convincing  the  most 
zealous  of  my  friends,  that  it  would  be  greatly  to  my 
advantage  to  go  with  the  Southern  family,  and,  by  bed- 
time, all  opposition,  save  in  the  form  of  a  lovely  little 
lame  scholar  of  mine,  was  appeased.  This  child,  to 
which  I  was  very  much  attached,  would  not  leave  the 
house  to  go  to  its  home,  but,  creeping  up  stairs,  clung  to 
my  pillow,  and  bathed  it  in  tears.  Her  little  prayers  of 
entreaty  had  nearly  conquered  me.  The  result  of  all 
was,  however,  that  the  succeeding  afternoon,  I  bade  fare- 
well to  all  my  village  friends,  and  left  the  town  by  the 
road  passing  the  school-house.  Here,  to  my  surprise, 
and  to  the  increase  of  my  grief,  I  found  all  my  scho- 
lars, some  forty  in  number,  drawn  up  to  see  me  for 
the  last  time.  They  had  reached  the  school-house  by  a 
path  across  the  fields.  Colonel  Peyton  stopped  the  car- 
riage, and  every  one  climbed  up  to  kiss  me — some  put- 
ting wreaths  upon  my  head,  and  others  placing  in  my 
hands  little  tokens  to  remember  them  by. 

"  Don't  forget  me.  Miss  Kate !"  cried  a  score  of  little 
voices,  "We'll  never  forget  you,  Miss  Kate!"  called 
out  others,  as  we  once  more  drove  on.  My  little,  lame 
pupil  was  not  among  them,  for  I  had  left  her  sobbing  as 
if  her  heart  would  break,  up  stairs  on  my  bed.  As  the 
carriage  turned  and  hid  the  town,  we  heard  a  shout  of 
"  Good-bye,  Miss  Kate  !  Good-bye  !  Come  back  again, 
won't  you  ?" 

Their  voices  no  longer  heard,  I  gave  vent  to  my  feel- 
ings in  a  gush  of  tears.     Colonel  Peyton  did  not  disturb 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  49 

them.     Isabel  nestled  her  hand  in  mine,  and  I  felt  her 
tears  dropping  warm  upon  it.  • 

The  same  evening,  we  reached  Boston,  and  in  a  few 
days  afterwards  were  en  route  to  the  West,  by  the  way 
of  Philadelphia  and  Pittsburg. 

I  will  not  detain  you  by  describing  our  journey,  but 
close  this  letter  by  saying,  that  after  a  delightful  trip  of 
three  weeks,  we  reached  the  elegant,  interior  city  of 
Nashville,  from  which  a  ride  of  two  hours  and  a  half 
brought  Colonel  Peyton  and  his  daughter  home,  and  me 
to  what  will  be  "a  home"  for  me  two  years  to  come. 

In  my  next,  I  will  resume  the  description  of  things  in 
the  West,  which  I  have  interrupted  to  give  you  the  his- 
tory of  my  first  coming  thither. 

I  am,  sir,  yours,  respectfully, 
4  Kate. 


60  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 


LETTER    VI. 

Mr. 

I  HAVE  seen  in  your  paper  a  little  notice  of  ray  letters 
by  some  lady,  (I  am  sure  it  was  a  female,)  who  takes  me 
to  task  for  writing  about  myself.  She  says  it  does  not 
matter  what  the  color  of  an  authoress's  eyes  are,  or  I 
whether  she  have  small  or  large  hands,  or  feet ;  and  she 
takes  it  upon  herself  to  box  my  ears  for  talking  about 

myself.     Now,  Mr. ,  I  think  that  a  great  deal  can   || 

be  learned  about  an  authoress,  by  knowing  the  hue  of   || 
the  eyes,  and  the  number  of  the  shoe  or  glove  she  hides 
foot  or  hand  in.     It  don't  matter  much,  perhaps,  whether 
a  man  who  writes  an  arithmetic,  or  a  woman  who  writes 
a  geography,   have  gray  locks  or  red,   long  noses  or 
short,  beards  or  no  beards,  for  I  have  seen,  (ah,  shock-   , 
ing!)  women  with  beards,  and  they  always  seem  to  be  | 
proud  of  them,  the  way  they  cherish  them!    While  I 
write,  I  recall  a  "  lady"  with  four  moles  on  her  chin,  each 
of  which  is  tufted  with  a  respectable  camel's  hair  pencil. 
Do  not  such  monsters  know  there  are  such  inventions 
as  tweezers? 

When  one  writes  to  interest,  and  writes  one's  thoughts, 
then  it  is  agreeable  to  the  reader  to  know  something 
about  the  writer's  person.  I  am  sure  (now  don't  call  me 
vain,  lady  critic  severe)  that  my  readers  will  not  like  mo 
any  thing  the  less  for  the  description  I  have  given  of 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  61 

myself.  I  see  also  that  one  of  your  readers  "wishes  to 
know  the  address  of  the  "Yankee  Girl,"  and  that  you 

decline  giving  it.     Very  good,  Mr. ;  and  pray,  who 

gave  it  to  you?  How  coolly  you  decline  to  give  what 
you  do  not  possess ;  for  I  am  sure  you  could  not  tell  how 
to  reach  me  by  a  letter,  if  you  wished  to  do  so.  But 
one  of  these  days,  if  I  see  a  paragraph  in  your  paper, 
saying  that  after  my  ten  trial  "needles"  are  written, 
you  will  engage  me  to  persevere  in  authorship,  I  will 
then  remove  the  veil. 

I  have  already  described  to  you  the  happiness  I  enjoy 
in  my  new  and  stately  home,  the  appearance  of  things, 
and  the  beautiful  scenery  with  which  the  villa  is  sur- 
rounded. I  will  now  give  you  some  account  of  the  man- 
ner in  which  we  pass  the  day  on  the  plantation,  and 
every  day  is  pretty  much  the  same,  save  when  Sunday 
comes,  or  a  party  of  visitors  from  town,  or  from  some 
neighboring  plantation  arrives.  About  half  past  four  in 
the  morning,  I  am  regularly  awakened  by  a  bell,  as  loud 
as  a  college  or  chapel  bell ;  which  is  rung  in  the  belfry 
of  the  overseer's  house,  to  call  the  slaves  up.  Its  clear 
lively  peal  continues  for  about  three  minutes.  I  open 
my  eyes,  see  that  all  is  dark,  and  then  sink  to  sleep 
again.  Or  if  I  lie  awake,  I  soon  hear  the  tramp  of  the 
laborers  passing  along  the  avenue,  and  the  jingling  of 
horse  chains,  as  the  horses  and  mules  are  led  by  to  the 
field.  All  is  soon  again  still  as  midnight;  for  the  plan- 
tation bell  does  not  disturb  the  domestic  servants  in  the 
house,  who  generally  indulge  in  bed  a  half  hour  longer. 
I  believe  that  I  am  the  only  one  in  the  house  that  the 
bell  disturbs ;  yet  I  do  not  begrudge  the  few  minutes' 


.'52  THE   SUNNY  SOUTH;    OR, 

loss  of  sleep  it  causes  me,  it  sounds  so  pleasantly  in  the 
half-dreamy  morning. 

About  six  o'clock  I  am  awakened  for  the  day,  by  the 
soft  footstep  of  my  pretty  negress  Eda,  who  steals  to  my 
bedside  to  whisper — "Missy  Kate,  six  o'clock,  missy," 
and  next  goes  to  withdraw  the  curtains,  and  let  in  the 
glorious  sumbeams,  to  gild  the  atmosphere  of  the  room. 
She  then  brings  me  a  laver  of  cool  fresh  water  from  the 
spring,  and  snowy  napkins ;  and  for  the  first  three  or 
four  mornings  after  my  arrival,  she  brought  me  a  wine 
mint  julep.  Yes,  sir,  a  regular  mint  julep !  And  when 
I  refused  it,  spite  of  its  delicious  taste  and  aroma,  (for  I 

am  a  Daughter  of  Temperance,  Mr.  ,)  she  opened 

her  large  eyes  with  wonder,  saying,  "Why,  missy,  dey 
nebber  so  nice!"  Her  assurance,  that  it  was  the  custom 
of  the  house  to  guests,  never  moved  me,  though  I  must 
confess  they  looked  very  tempting.  When  she  found 
that  I  was  not  to  be  tempted,  she  brought  me  coiFee, 
black,  and  clear,  and  fragrant  enough  for  a  Turkish  Sul- 

)^tana.  But  I  had  been  raised  in  the  plain,  simple,  Yankee 
way,  and  so  had  no  use  for  such  luxury,  and  have  ban- 
ished both  julep  and  coffee  before  I  get  up  in  the  morn- 

.  ing. 

My  sable  maid  aids  me  in  my  toilet,  combs  and  twists 
my  long  hair  with  the  grace  and  art  of  a  Parisienne,  and 
makes  herself  most  useful.  Indeed  one  does  not  know 
of  how  many  uses  a  servant  may  be,  till  one  has  one, "  as 

•  I  have  now  for  the  first  time  in  my  life.  How  differently 
brought  up  are  we  Yankee  girls  from  the  Southern  girls, 
who  never  do  any  thing  themselves,  being  always  at- 
tended by  a  shadow  of  a  little  negress,  or  an  ancient 

.  mammy!     For  my  part,  I  find  it  very  pleasant: — "Eda, 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  53 

a  glass  of  water;"  or,  "Eda,  bring  me  such  a  book  from 
the  parlor  below;"  or,  "Eda,  hand  me  mj  fan;"  or, 
"Eda,  a  dozen  other  things."  Oh,  it  is  very  convenient ; 
and  I  do  believe  a  Northern  girl  in  these  circumstances, 
will,  in  a  year,  render  herself  more  helpless  than  even  a 
Southerner  to  the  manor  born. 

At  seven,  a  clear-ringing,  silver  table  bell  calls  all  from 
their  rooms  to  the  breakfast  apartment,  which  is  a 
spacious,  cool  piazza,  shut  in  by  green  blinds,  and  adorned 
with  cages  of  mocking  and  canary  birds,  which  sing  all 
the  meal  time. 

Breakfast  usually  consumes  half  an  hour.  Four  or 
five  varieties  of  warm  bread  load  the  table,  with  succotash, 
and  hominy,  and  ham  always.  Two  men  and  two 
negresses,  all  well  dressed  and  in  white  aprons,  wait  on 
table,  and  anticipate  every  wish.  The  colonel  always 
asks  a  devout  blessing,  all  being  seated,  and  all  respond 
a  loud  "Amen."  Two  noble  dogs  generally  crouch 
either  side  of  the  colonel's  arm  chair,  and  a  monstrous 
Maltese  cat,  having  taken  a  liking  to  me,  seats  herself 
by  my  chair  with  a  wistful  look.  After  breakfast  the 
colonel  lights  a  cigar  at  a  coal  brought  him,  unbidden, 
by  a  negro  boy,  for  he  knows  his  master's  habits ;  and 
another  servant  holds  a  ready  saddled  horse  at  the 
door. 

The  colonel  mounts  him,  and  rides  away  to  overlook 
his  estate,  sometimes  accompanied  by  Isabel  and  me, 
when  we  have  brave  gallops  home  alone.  About  nine 
o'clock  we  take  to  our  books  or  our  needles,  and  sit 
wherever  we  choose ;  in  our  rooms,  in  the  breezy  hall,  on 
the  piazza,  or  in  the  drawing-room.  At  eleven  an  at- 
tentive servant  brings  refreshments,  when  studies  and 


54  THE  SUNNY  south;  or, 

needles  arc  dropped,  and  we  have  gossip,  music,  and 
sometimes  jump  the  rope,  swing,  or  play  at  battledore. 
If  we  have  calls  to  make,  the  carriage  is  ordered  at  half- 
past  eleven,  and  after  a  drive  of  two  hours  or  three,  we 
return  to  dine  at  two  o'clock. 

The  dinner  table  is  placed  in  the  large  central  hall  of 
the  house,  and  every  dish  elegantly  served.  Above  the 
table  is  a  huge  silk  covered  fan,  the  breadth  of  the  table. 
Tassels  are  attached  to  it,  and  it  is  fringed  with  crimson. 
From  rings  in  the  corners  lead  red  cords,  which  are 
pulled  to  and  fro  by  a  little  negro,  all  dinner  time. 
This  regular  and  ceaseless  movement  of  the  fan  above 
our  heads  creates  an  agreeable  breeze,  which  in  this 
climate  is  most  luxurious.  The  dinner  consists  of  many 
courses,  with  wine  and  dessert  of  fruit,  sweetmeats,  ices, 
nuts,  domestic  grapes,  and  black  coffee.  The  ladies 
then  leave  the  gentlemen  at  the  table  to  smoke,  and  re- 
tire to  their  own  rooms  to  sleep  till  the  cool  of  the  day. 
The  "lords"  sometimes  at  hunting  dinners  sleep  at  the 
table. 

Towards  evening  all  is  animation.  Saddle  horses  are 
ordered,  and  away  we  scamper,  now  to  the  tarn,  or  to 
climb  the  lion's  head,  or  to  canter  along  the  turnpike. 
"We  generally  get  back  by  twilight  in  fine  spirits.  Tea 
and  coffee  are  handed  to  us  whenever  we  choose  to  have 
it,  no  table  being  ever  set  for  the  evening  repast.  It 
takes  three  servants  to  hand  it.  One  comes  with  a  waiter 
of  napkins  first;  another  follows  with  coffee  and  sugar; 
a  third  with  cakes  of  all  sorts,  and  sometimes  a  fourth 
with  purple  finger  glasses.  In  the  evening  we  all  as- 
semble in  the  brilliantly  lighted  parlors,  where  we  have 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  55 

music,  play  at  chess,  (the  colonel  and  I  take  a  game  at 
backgammon  usually,)  read,  or  talk.  By  ten  we  all  re- 
tire ;  and  soon  the  house  is  buried  in  the  repose  of  mid- 
night.    So  pass  the  happy  days  at  Overton  Lodge. 

Yours, 
Kate. 


66  THE   SUNNY  SOUTH;   OR, 


LETTER   VII. 

Mr. 

Have  you  ever  been  fox  hunting?  If  you  hare, 
you  have  seen  very  respectable,  rough  and  tumble  en- 
joyment ;  if  you  have  not,  there  are  yet  before  you  certain 
experiences. 

I  have  already  spoken  of  the  fine,  broadly  spread 
landscape,  visible  from  the  portico  of  Overton  Park 
Lodge.  In  the  late  autumnal  months  when  the  crops 
are  well  gathered,  and  there  is  nothing  to  trample  down 
in  the  fields,  this  wide  landscape  is  converted  into  a  vast 
fox  hunting  ground,  full  eleven  miles  across.  By  con- 
cert the  neighboring  planters  open  their  fences  with 
many  a  gap  across  the  country,  and  so  a  clear  ride  of 
ten  or  twelve  miles  is  left  free  to  the  adventurous  hunts- 
man or  huntswoman. 

Two  evenings  ago  as  I  was  about  to  mount  my  beauti- 
ful dapple  mule,  (don't  laugh  at  my  mule,  for  it  is  the 
dearest  little  fellow  with  ears  like  velvet,  and  feet  and 
fetlocks  like  an  antelope's,  a  special  gift  to  me  for  its 
beauty  and  gentleness,  from  Colonel  Peyton,)  to  pace 
down  the  avenue  to  the  turnpike,  I  was  surprised  to  see 
suddenly  appear  in  sight  a  party  of  seven  young  gentle- 
men. They  were  riding  at  top  speed,  and  in  great  glee, 
and  all  came  dashing  up  toward  the  villa  at  that  rapid 
rate  the  Tenncsscean  loves  to  ride. 


THE   SOUTHEENER   AT  HOME.  57 

"Ah,  my  boys,"  cried  the  colonel,  who  was  about  to 
ride  out  with  me,  removing  his  foot  from  the  stirrup, 
while  I  hesitated  whether  to  remain  on  the  flight  of  steps 
or  fly  from  such  a  battalion.  "Don't  go.  Miss  Kate. 
They  are  only  some  of  the  young  fox  hunters  come  over 
to  make  preparations." 

And  before  I  could  escape — 

"Miss  Conyngham,  gentlemen!" 

The  young  men,  who  drew  up  their  horses  on  seeing  a 
lady,  lifted  their  caps  and  hats,  and  I  was  struck  with 
their  general  appearance ;  four  of  them  being  fine-looking, 
yet  dressed  in  blue  linsey-woolsey,  with  boots  pulled  on 
over  their  pantaloons ;  and  the  other  three  in  thick  coats 
and  caps,  or  broad  felt  hats  slouched  behind — a  very 
common  head  covering  in  these  parts  and  not  unpictu- 
resque.  Every  young  man  was  armed  with  a  gun,  and 
attended  at  least  by  two  dogs,  and  beautiful  creatures 

some  of  them  were — not  the  young  men,  Mr. ,  but 

the  hounds. 

"Well,  colonel,  we  have  come  over  to  settle  upon  the 
day,"  said  one  of  the  young  gentlemen. 

"That  is  right!  I  like  to  see  the  rising  generation 
prompt  to  engage  in  such  noble  sports.  I  think  that  the 
day  after  to-morrow  we  will  give  Reynard  our  compli- 
ments in  person.  I  will  have  my  men  ready,  and  if  you 
will  meet  me  at  the  edge  of  the  wood,  by  the  lion's  head 
cliff,  at  six  in  the  morning,  we  will  do  our  best  for  a  day's 
sport." 

"We'll  be  there,  colonel,"  was  the  response;  "and 
then  we  shall  stand  a  chance  of  bringing  down  a  deer  or 
two,"  added  one  of  them.  "I  saw  one  on  the  ridge  by 
the  creek  as  I  rode  over." 


58  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

"No  doubt  we  shall  see  plenty  of  sport.  And  you  must 
accompany  us,  Miss  Kate,"  added  the  colonel  turning  to 
me,  as  I  stood  with  the  bridle  of  my  mule  in  my  hand, 
trying  to  check  his  restive  movements,  for  the  prancing 
horses  of  the  young  men  fired  his  ambition  to  prance 
too. 

After  suffering  myself  to  be  urged  a  little  by  two  of 
the  young  gentlemen,  I  consented  to  join  the  party,  if 
other  ladies  did  so.  The  cavalcade  then  escorted  us  to  the 
gate  of  the  main  road,  and  the  horsemen  separated  each 
to  his  own  home ;  while  the  colonel  and  I  took  a  forest 
road,  that,  after  a  league's  windings,  came  out  near  the 
villa.  As  we  rode,  the  colonel  entertained  me  with  a 
great  many  anecdotes  of  hunting,  from  Bruin  to  the 
Hare.  As  we  approached  the  mansion  on  our  return, 
the  avenue  was  temporarily  blocked  up  by  not  less  than 
fifty  slaves  of  both  sexes ;  for  it  was  now  twilight,  and 
they  had  just  completed  their  day's  work,  and  were 
wending  their  way  to  their  village,  or  quartier. 

The  women  carried  hoes  upon  their  shoulders,  and 
trudged  along,  some  dull,  and  with  expressionless  faces, 
others  laughing  and  singing.  The  men,  I  remarked,  Avere 
more  cheerful  than  the  women,  and  had  more  lively 
countenances.  One  and  all  were  clad  in  their  coarse 
white  cloth,  known  as  negro  cloth — the  men  with  straw 
hats  and  the  women  with  handkerchiefs  upon  their  heads. 
JL  have  not  yet  seen  a  negro  woman  wear  a  bonnet  on 
Sundays,  it  is  only  a  gayer  kerchief. 

As  we  passed,  they  drew  up  on  each  side  of  the  narrow 
road  for  us  to  pass — the  men  all  taking  off,  or  touching 
their  hats,  and  replying  with  a  smile  to  their  master's 
salutation  of  "Good  evening,  boys!"  and  the  women — 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  59 

some  of  them,  slightly  nodding,  but  without  the  smile. 
One  of  them  had  a  huge  cotton  basket  upon  her  head. 

"Peep  into  it,"  said  the  colonel,  as  I  rode  by.  I  did 
so,  and  beheld  four  little  cunning  black  babies ! — they 
were  nestled  together,  and  quite  naked.  These  babies 
had  been  taken  by  their  mothers  to  the  field,  and  while 
they  were  at  work,  were  placed  under  the  care  of  the  girl 

0  had  them  in  charge. 

1  am  already  getting  reconciled  to  slavery,  since  I  find 
that  it  does  not,  in  reality,  exhibit  the  revolting  horrors 
I  was  taught  in  the  North  to  discover  in  it.  There  are 
many  things  to  admire  and  to  interest  one  in  the  social 
and  domestic  condition  of  the  slaves,  and  I  am  almost 
ready  to  acknowledge  that  the  African  is  happier  in~ 
bondage  than  free !  At  least  one  thing  is  certain :  nearly 
all  the  free  negroes  I  have  ever  seen  in  the  North  were 
miserable  creatures,  poor,  ragged,  and  often  criminal. 
Here  they  are  well  clad,  moral,  nearly  all  religious,  and 
the  temptations  that  demoralize  the  free  blacks  in  our 
northern  cities  are  unknown  to,  and  cannot  approach 
them^ 

As  we  drew  near  the  front  of  the  villa,  my  mule,  not 
liking  the  shrill  cry  of  a  superb  peacock,  which  conceived 
the  idea  of  welcoming  us  with  a  song,  and  a  resplendent 
unfolding  of  his  prismatic-eyed  tail,  started  to  run  with 
me  at  top  speed.  I  am  a  tolerable  rider,  and  as  I  could 
not  fall  far  if  I  were  thrown,  the  mule  being  so  little  and 
low,  I  did  not  feel  half  the  alarm  the  colonel  manifested 
for  my  safety,  who  began  to  ride  after  me ;  when  finding 
his  horse  only  gave  fresh  impetus  to  the  speed  of  my 
mule,  he  drew  rein,  and  called  to  a  negro  man  to  stop 
my  career.     But  the  mule  was  not  to  be  stopped.     In- 


CO  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

stead  of  taking  the  carriage-way,  he  bolted  across  the 
lawn,  and  made  straight  for  the  stable.  To  stop  him  was 
impossible.  I  found  I  might  as  well  pull  at  a  granite 
column  as  at  his  jaws.  The  door  of  his  stable  was  open, 
and  I  saw  that  he  would  only  stop  at  his  crib.  I  measured 
the  ground  to  spring  to  it,  but  the  dreadful  idea  that  my 
skirt  might  entangle  with  the  horns  of  the  saddle,  de- 
terred me.  In  another  moment  the  stable  was  reached  ! 
The  door  was  open.  I  threw  myself  forward,  clasped 
neck  and  mane,  and  stooping  low  went  safely  in  with 
him.  The  suddenness  with  which  he  stopped  at  his 
manger,  tossed  me  into  the  rack,  out  of  which  I  was  taken 
unhurt,  and  with  many  a  joke  and  laugh  upon  my  mule 
race.  But  a  mule  race  is  not  a  fox  hunt,  you  say !  Bide 
a  wee,  sir. 

Yours, 
Kate. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  61 


LETTER    VIII. 

In  my  last,  I  said  I  would  give  you  an  account  of  a 
foX'innt,  but  ended  my  letter  with  a  mule-race.  But  I 
will  now  redeem  my  pledge.  Early  in  the  morning,  the 
day  but  one  after  the  party  of  young  men  called  at  the 
lodge,  we  all  were  up  with  the  ringing  of  the  overseer's 
bell.  By  six  o'clock  we  were  assembled  in  the  hall, 
where  a  lunch  and  a  cup  of  hot  coffee  awaited  us.  By 
half-past  six,  ten  of  us  in  the  saddle,  including  three 
ladies,  were  cantering  at  a  brisk  rate  down  the  avenue, 
in  the  direction  of  a  gate  which  led  into  the  wide  cotton 
fields,  spread  a  league  away  beyond  the  villa.  Not  less 
than  seven  Africans,  mounted,  or  on  foot,  brought  up 
the  rear  of  our  cavalcade. 

Reaching  the  gate,  which  one  of  the  impatient  young 
gentlemen  opened  almost  at  a  speed,  managing  his  horse 
adroitly  the  while,  we  dashed  through,  and  emerged  in 
the  old  hickory  grove,  the  smooth  grass  of  which  glittered 
with  dew-drops.  The  woods  echoed  with  the  tramp  of 
our  horses,  and  the  laugh  and  merry  talk  of  the  young 
men  and  ourselves,  not  excluding  the  white-locked 
colonel,  whose  cheerful  voice  rose  above  all  others. 
After  a  spirited  gallop  of  half  a  mile  through  the  grove, 
we  emerged  upon  an  open  field,  ^rhere  once  corn  had 
grown,  but  which,  having  been  harvested,  left  a  desolate 
wastcy    In  the  midst  of  this  field  was  a  ravine,  thickly 


62  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

grown  with  bushes,  which  was  known  to  be  a  favorite 
haunt  of  Reynard.  The  negroes,  who  had  followed  us 
with  the  dogs,  were  now  called  up,  and  ordered  to  ap- 
proach the  thicket,  and  stir  up  such  gentlemen  of  the 
red  brush  as  might  sojourn  therein.  The  order  to  ad- 
vance was  obeyed  by  the  negroes  and  dogs  with  emulous 
alacrity.  It  was,  for  the  first  hundred  yards,  a  laughable 
race  between  quadruped  and  biped ;  but  the  last  were 
distanced,  and  the  dogs  reaching  the  covert,  dashed  into 
it,  a  dozen  in  all,  in  perfect  silence  of  tongue.  But  the 
negroes  kept  up  an  incessant  yell  as  they  neared  the 
bushes,  which  they  began  to  beat,  uttering  loud  shouts 
and  challenges  to  master  Reynard  to  "come  out  and 
show  hisself  like  a  gemman,  and  not  to  be  'fraid  of  white 
folks." 

Reynard,  however,  did  not  feel  inclined  to  respond  to 
their  polite  and  repeated  invitations.  The  dogs,  in  the 
meantime,  were  busy  in  the  ravine.  We  could  hear 
them  crashing  about  over  the  dry  sticks,  but  not  a  single 
bark  from  them. 

"  They  know  the  fox  is  there,  or  they  would  be  noisy," 
said  the  colonel,  as  he  watched  the  copse. 

"  Now,  Miss  Kate,  we  shall  soon  have  sport.  Hark ! 
hear  that!  Isn't  it  music?" 

And  music  it  was,  such  as  I  had  never  before  listened 
to.  The  whole  pack,  taking  the  deep  short  bark  of  one 
of  them  as  their  cue,  suddenly  opened  in  full  voice  from 
the  ravine.  A  dozen  sonorous  canine  voices  were  bay- 
ing at  once.  The  noise  was  singularly  exciting.  It 
made  my  pulse  bound,  and  my  heart  tremble  with  ex- 
pectation. If  you  should  hear  the  burst  of  the  full 
tones  of  a  pack  of  hounds,  you  would  never  forget  the 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  G3 

•wild  and  startling  music.  My  spirited  horse  caught  the 
excitement,  pricked  up  his  slender  ears,  and  stamped 
impatiently  with  his  forefoot,  yet  obediently  suffered 
himself  to  be  restrained  by  the  light  pressure  of  a  finger 
upon  his  rein.  The  barking  of  the  dogs  set  the  whole 
party  on  the  qui  vive  !  Every  eye  was  strained  to  watch 
for  the  appearance  of  Reynard,  when  he  should  emerge 
from  the  ravine.  Some  of  the  young  gentlemen  galloped 
"like  mad"  to  the  south  of  it,  while  others  swept  round 
to  the  north  of  it.  I  kept  at  the  colonel's  side,  who 
remained  in  "our  first  position,"  as  Monsieur  Cheffier, 
the  dancing  master,  says.  "Look!  There  he  goes!" 
shouted  half  a  score  of  eager  voices,  and  the  fox  appeared 
in  full  view  to  all  eyes,  scampering  out  of  the  thicket, 
and  taking  a  direction  straight  for  us  ladies ! 

"Your  whips — lash  him  as  he  passes!"  shouted  the 
colonel  to  us.  "We  must  turn  him  back,  and  not  let 
him  get  into  the  wood,  or  the  sport  is  up.  The  fox  came 
gallantly  on,  as  if  either  he  did  not  care  for  us,  or  did 
not  see  us.  The  colonel  kept  urging  "us  to  whip  at 
him,"  and  turn  him.  We  three  ladies,  therefore,  placed 
our  horses  right  across  the  only  way  by  which  he  could 
reach  the  wood,  and  prepared  to  do  battle  bravely,  we 
being  the  only  persons  on  that  side  of  the  field;  the  rest 
of  the  party  having  spread  themselves  over  the  field,  ex- 
pecting the  fox  to  emerge  from  cover  in  a  different 
direction  from  that  which  he  took. 

I  must  confess  I  felt  some  trepidation  as  I  saw  the 
fox,  which  was  a  large  one,  making  as  straight  as  an 
arrow  for  my  horse.  My  riding  whip  was  not  very  long, 
but  I  prepared  to  use  it  as  valiantly  as  I  could. 


G4  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

"He  makes  for  you,  Miss  Kate!  Don't  let  him  pass 
under  your  horse,"  shouted  the  colonel. 

In  three  leaps  the  fox  was  within  six  feet  of  my  steed, 
and  was  passing,  or  rather  aiming  to  pass  under  him, 
when  I  hit  him  smartly  with  my  ivory-handled  whip. 
The  blow  had  the  effect  of  checking  his  leap,  so  far  as  to 
give  it  another  direction,  and  that  was  over  the  horse. 
A  snarl — a  showing  of  teeth — a  dreadful  horrid  scram- 
ble with  sharp  claws,  right  up  the  flank  of  my  horse, 
and  over  my  saddle — a  sweep  of  his  brush  in  my  face — 
and  he  was  off  upon  the  ground  on  the  other  side,  with 
my  green  veil  entangled  about  his  head  and  forefeet ! 

"  We  have  him  !  You've  fought  bravely,  Miss  Kate. 
He's  meshed !"  shouted  several  of  the  gentlemen.  "  Was 
any  thing  ever  done  handsomer  ?  Never  saw  a  bolder 
leap  than  that  in  a  fox  !" 

The  fox  was  indeed  fairly  meshed !  the  veil  blinding 
and  fettering  him  so  hard  that  he  did  nothing  but  roll 
over  and  over,  spit  and  snarl,  like  twenty  cats  tied  up 
in  a  sack !  The  colonel  leaped  from  his  horse  and  ap- 
proached him  with  his  whip.  The  other  gentlemen  did 
the  same  as  fast  as  they  reached  the  spot.  The  negroes 
yelled  and  laughed  with  obstreperous  joy  at  the  pickle 
"  Massa  Fox  was  in."  But  Reynard  was  not  yet  cap- 
tured. He  now  began  to  tumble  and  struggle  for  life  so 
fearfully,  that  he  released  one  foot  from  my  poor,  torn 
veil,  and,  thus  relieved  in  part,  he  managed,  by  the  most 
extraordinary  somersets,  to  travel  at  a  pace  diflScult  for 
the  gentlemen  to  keep  up  with,  laughing,  too,  as  they  all 
were,  at  his  perplexity,  which  was  comical  enough.  The 
progress  of  the  fox  was  a  one-legged  lope,  a  roll,  and  a 
somerset,  alternately,  varied  by  a  yelp  at  every  new 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  65 

change  in  his  extraordinary  locomotion.  He  got  a  dozen 
blows  with  the  whips,  but  still  marvelously  kept  ahead 
of  his  pursuers,  till  at  length  he  tumbled  blindly  into  a 
deep  hole,  out  of  which  a  tree  had  been  taken,  when  the 
dogs  plunged  in  upon  him  and  strangled  him.  The 
brush  was  brought  to  me  as  a  trophy,  the  gentlemen  de- 
claring that  I  was  his  captor.  I,  however,  referred  that 
honor  to  my  poor  veil,  which  was  torn  and  soiled  most 
pitiful  to  behold.  The  colonel  has,  since  that  adventure, 
dubbed  me  as  "  The  lady  of  the  veiled  fox." 

Kate. 


66  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 


LETTER  IX. 

My  dear  Sir  : — 

I  do  not  recollect  whether  in  my  former  letter,  I 
have  mentioned  the  rural  little  Gothic  chapel  which  is  on 
the  estate.  It  was  erected  at  the  private  expense  of  the 
noble-hearted  Christian  gentleman  who  is  its  proprietor. 
The  model  is  borrowed  from  an  exquisite  chapel  which 

the  colonel  saw  on  the  estate  of  the  Earl  of  C ,  when 

he  was  in  England.  The  situation  of  our  chapel  is  ro- 
mantic ;  and,  being  seen  from  all  parts  of  the  plantation, 
is  an  interesting  feature  in  the  scenery.  It  is  about 
fifty-five  feet  long  and  built  of  stone ;  with  turrets  and 
mullioned  Gothic  windows  of  stained  glass,  and  a  floor 
of  Tennessee  marble.  Its  site  is  upon  the  verge  of  a 
green  plantation,  which  overhangs  the  brook,  and  is,  in 
its  turn,  overhung  by  a  projecting  spur  of  the  lion's 
clifi".  Majestic  oaks  embrace  it,  and  ivy  is  trained  up  its 
walls.  A  broad  lawn,  crossed  by  graveled  paths,  sur- 
rounds it.  These  paths  lead :  one  to  the  villa,  one  to  the 
next  plantation,  and  one  to  the  African  village  where 
the  slaves  reside;  for,  be  it  known  to  you,  that  this 
beautiful  chapel,  the  cost  of  which  was  $3000,  has  been 
built  for  the  slaves  of  the  estate.  The  body  of  the  chapel 
is  reserved  for  them,  while  in  a  gallery  above  the  en- 
trance are  four  pews,  two  on  each  side  of  the  organ,  in 
which  the  colonel's  family,  and  sometimes  the  families 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT    HOME.  67 

of  one  or  two  of  the  neighboring  planters,  sit  during  ser- 
vice. This  is  performed  every  Sabbath  morning  by  a 
gray-headed  gentleman,  who  acts  as  lay  reader,  and  on 
week  days  occupies  himself  in  teaching  the  classics  to 
two  sons  of  a  gentleman  who  lives  two  miles  off.  For 
his  services  on  Sunday  the  colonel  gives  him  a  salary. 

The  second  Sunday  ajfter  I  came  here  I  was  invited  to 
attend  service  in  the  chapel  with  the  family.  Upon 
entering  it,  I  found  the  body  of  the  floor  occupied  by  the 
black  men  and  women  of  the  plantation,  seated  in  chairs 
with  the  utmost  decency  and  quiet,  and  all  neatly  and 
cleanly  attired.  We  took  our  seats  in  the  gallery,  while 
Isabel  placed  herself  at  the  organ  to  play  a  voluntary. 
Until  the  old  gentleman  who  officiated  entered,  I  had 
time  to  look  at  the  interior  of  this  bijou  of  a  church.  On 
the  right  of  the  chancel  was  an  exquisite  group  of  statuary, 
executed  in  Italy  expressly  for  this  chapel  by  the  colonel's 
order,  at  an  expense  of  $800.  It  represented  the  Ma- 
donna and  her  child.  The  design  was  full  of  taste  and  ar- 
tistic excellencies.  On  the  opposite  side  was  a  table  of  the 
purest  white  marble,  surmounted  by  a  dove  with  its  wings 
extended.  It  was  a  memento  of  the  death  of  a  little  son 
of  the  colonel.  There  were  no  pews  in  the  body  of  the 
church,  only  low  chairs  of  oak,  a  chair  to  each  worshiper, 
with  an  aisle  between. 

The  service  was  very  solemn ;  and  my  Puritanic  ob- 
jections to  praying  from  a  prayer-book,  have  been 
wholly  removed  by  this  day's  experience.  The  singing 
was  very  remarkable.  The  African  women  all  sing  well, 
having  naturally  soft  voices  ;  with  the  organ,  and  full 
fifty  fine  voices  swelling  in  harmony  with  it,  the  eifect 
was  very  fine.     "Is  it  possible,"  I  asked  myself,  "that 


68  THE    SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

these  are  slaves  ?  Is  it  possible  that  this  rich  voice 
which  leads  in  such  manly  tones  is  their  master's  ?  Is  it 
possible  that  the  fair  girl  who  unites,  by  an  accompani- 
ment upon  the  organ,  her  praise  Avith  theirs,  is  one  of 
the  '  haughty  daughters  of  the  South  ?'" 

The  responses  were  all  full  and  timely  ;  for  the  slaves 
soon  learn  words  by  ear ;  and  many  of  them  go  through 
the  whole  service,  save  the  psalter,  without  a  mistake. 
The  sermon,  which  was  printed,  was  read  well  by  the 
elderly  layman;  it  was  simple,  suitable,  and  practical. 
After  service,  the  gray-headed  old  slaves  stood  respect- 
fully without  the  door,  and,  with  uncovered  heads,  bowed 
to  the  colonel  and  ladies,  the  latter  of  whom  stopped  to 
speak  to  some  of  them,  and  to  make  kind  inquiries  of  the 
old  "aunties,"  as  all  old  female  slaves  are  affectionately 
termed,  as  the  term  "uncle"  is  applied  to  the  old  men. 
( I  have  seen  a  good  deal  of  the  African  race  since  I  have 
been  here,  and  I  am  persuaded  that  they  are  far  more  reli- 
giously disposed  than  the  lower  and  middle  class  of  whites. 
There  are  but  four  negroes  on  the  colonel's  plantation, 
that  are  not  "members"  of  the  church,  and  who  do  not 
try  to  square  their  lives  with  the  precepts  of  the  Gospel 
so  far  as  they  understand  them.  This  is  the  case,  I  learn, 
on  all  the  neighboring  plantations,  and  I  am  informed 
by  intelligent  persons  that  it  is  more  or  less  so  through- 
out the  whole  South.  It  would  thus  seem,  that  God,  in 
his  providence,  has  permitted  slavery  to  be  the  instrument 
of  christianizing  Africa,  by  bringing  Africa  to  Christian 
shores ;  and  colonization  by  re-action  on  the  shores  of 
Africa,  is  completing  the  mysterious  dispensatiory 

I  have  an  amusing   incident  to  relate  of  which  our 
chapel  was  last  Sunday  the  scene.     The  annual  visita- 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  69 

tion  of  the  Bishop  being  expected,  the  venerable  lay- 
reader  got  ready  some  twenty  adults  to  be  confirmed, 
and  forty  children  to  be  baptized.  The  Bishop  duly 
arrived,  accompanied  by  two  clergymen.  Our  little 
chapel,  you  may  be  assured,  felt  quite  honored  with  the 
presence  of  such  distinguished  visitors.  There  were 
several  neighboring  families  present,  who,  with  ours, 
quite  filled  the  gallery. 

\\Tien  the  time  came  to  baptize  them,  the  marble  font 
being  filled  with  fair  water,  the  black  babies  were  brought 
up  by  their  ebony  papas.  The  colonel  stood  sponsor  for 
the  boys,  and  his  sister,  an  excellent  and  witty  maiden 
lady,  for  the  girls. 

"What  is  his  name?"  asked  a  clergyman  who  was  to 
baptize,  taking  in  his  arms  a  little  inky  ball  of  ebony 
infancy  with  a  pair  of  white,  shining  eyes. 

"Alexander  de  Great,  massa  !" 

I  saw  a  smile  pass  from  face  to  face  of  the  reverend 
gentlemen  in  the  chancel.     The  babe  was  duly  baptized. 

"What  name?"  he  demanded  of  another  Congo  papa. 

"  General  Jackson,  massa  !"  and  by  this  name  the  lit- 
tle barbarian  was  duly  made  a  Christian. 

"What  name?"  "Walter  Scott!"  "What  name?" 
"Peter  Simple!"  "What  name?"  "Napoleon  Bona- 
parte !"  Splash  went  the  water  upon  its  face,  and  an- 
other ebony  succeeded.  His  name  was  "Potiphar." 
Another's  was  "Pharaoh."  Another  was  christened 
"General  Twiggs;"  another  "  Polk  and  Dallas;"  another 
"General  Taylor;"  indeed,  every  General  in  the  Ame- 
rican army  was  honored,  while  "Jupiter,"  "Mars," 
"Apollo  Belvidere,"  and  "Nicodemus,"  will  give  you 
a  specimen  of  the  rest  of  the  names.     The  female  in- 


70  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

fants  received  such  names  as  "  Queen  Victoria,"  "  Lady 
Morgan,"  "Lady  Jane  Grey,"  "Madame  de  Stael," 
"Zenobia,"  "Venus,"  "Juno,"  "Vesta,"  "Miss  Mar- 
tineau,"  "Fanny  Wright,"  "Juliana  Johnson,"  and 
"  Coal  Black  Rose."  The  water  in  the  font,  greasy 
and  blackened  by  the  process  of  baptizing  so  many 
black  babies,  had  to  be  twice  removed  and  replaced  by 
fresh.  The  Bishop  could  scarcely  keep  his  countenance 
as  name  after  name  was  given,  and  the  assistant  clergy- 
man twice  had  to  leave  the  church,  I  verily  believe,  to 
prevent  laughing  in  the  church.  The  whole  of  this 
scandalous  naming  originated  in  the  merry  brain  of  the 
colonel's  sister.  Of  course,  the  clergyman  had  to  bap- 
tize by  the  name  given,  and  the  whole  scene  was  irre- 
sistible. 

Your  friend, 

Kate. 


THE    SOUTHERXER    AT   HOME.  71 


LETTER    X. 

Dear  Sir  : 

On  Saturday  last  we  all  rode  into  the  city,  which, 
as  I  have  told  you,  is  about  two  and  a  half  hours'  fast 
driving  from  Overton  Park.  The  road  is  a  smooth 
turnpike,  and  runs  through  a  beautiful  country  of  field 
and  woodland,  hill  and  dale.  The  landscape  is  con- 
stantly varied  and  constantly  interesting.  Numerous 
pretty  villas  lined  the  road,  which  being  much  used,  was 
thronged  with  carriages  and  horsemen. 

The  number  of  gentlemen  we  found  on  horseback 
would  be  matter  of  surprise  to  a  Northerner,  who  usually 
rides  only  in  a  gig.  ^K  Southerner  seldom  trusts  him- 
self inside  of  a  carriage.  If  his  wife  rides  out  in  her 
finely-appointed  barouche,  he  canters  well-mounted  by 
the  carriage  window.  I  believe  the  Tennessee  gentle- 
man looks  upon  it  as  decidedly  eflfeminate  to  be  seen 
taking  his  ease  in  a  cushioned  carriage. 

On  the  way  we  passed  the  site  of  an  old  fort,  where 
the  army  of  Jackson  encamped  before  marching  to  New 
Orleans.  A  few  yards  from  the  ramparts,  the  place 
where  a  man  was  shot  for  desertion,  was  pointed  out  to 
me.  It  is  a  sweet-looking,  green  spot,  and  calls  up  any 
other  associations  than  those  of  bloodshed. 

The  Hermitage  where  Andrew  Jackson,  jr.,  now  re- 
sides, was  not  many  miles  from  us.     It  is  a  good-looking 


72  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

mansion  with  a  portico,  and  surrounded  by  lawns  and 
gardens.  At  the  foot  of  the  garden  is  visible,  through 
foliage,  the  snow-white  tomb  of  the  hero  and  statesman. 
fl.  was  charmed  with  the  beauty  of  the  scenery  on 
both  sides  of  our  road.  The  whole  landscape  undulated 
like  a  mighty  green  sea.  About  two  miles  from  Nash- 
ville a  hill  commands  a  fine  view  of  it.  We  stopped  to 
gaze  upon  it  as  it  rose,  crowning  a  sort  of  lofty  island 
amid  a  valley,  the  Cumberland  flowing  on  the  east  side. 
The  view  was  exceedingly  fine  and  imposing.  For  every 
roof  there  was  a  tree,  and  what  with  alternate  terraces 
of  foliage  and  porticoes,  with  the  domes  and  spires  rising 
above  all,  I  was  so  struck  with  admiration  that  I  wished 
for  a  painter's  pencil  to  transfer  the  noble  picture  to 
canvass. 

The  highest  portion  of  the  city  is  distinguished  by  a 
large  mansion  cresting  it  like  a  coronet.  This  was  the 
residence  of  the  late  President  Polk,  now  occupied  by 
his  estimable  widow,  who,  I  am  told,  has  shut  herself  up, 
a  prey  to  inconsolable  grief  ever  since  the  death  of  her 
distinguished  husband.  From  the  distance  at  which  we 
were  viewing  the  house,  I  could  see  that  the  large  co- 
lumns were  craped  with  black. 

Nashville  has  been  celebrated  for  its  gaiety,  its  wealth, 
its  luxury,  its  sociability,  and  the  beauty  of  its  females. 
I  was  not  disappointed  in  the  latter.  As  we  approached 
the  city,  we  met  at  least  fifty  carriages  driving  out  for 
the  usual  evening  ride,  for  which  these  people  are  so 
famous.  In  nearly  every  one  of  them  I  beheld  one  or 
more  lovely  faces.  We  met  also  a  large  cavalcade  of 
school  girls  mounted  on  pretty  ponies,  and  every  face 
was  handsome.     So  it  was  after  we  entered  the  city,  and 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  7S 

■went  among  the  shops.  All  the  girls  we  met  were 
pretty;  and  especially,  we  noticed  an  unusual  number 
of  genteel,  lovely  widows ;  for  men  live  faster  than  wo- 
men, and  die  early. 

The  equipages  of  the  city  are  numerous,  and  some  of 
them  handsome.  They  drive  fast,  and  usually  in  open 
carriages. 

Before  leaving  the  city,  which  carries  elegance  and 
taste  to  a  high  degree,  we  paid  a  visit  to  the  Capitol, 
which  is  one-third  completed.  It  is  a  majestic  new  ruin 
in  its  present  aspect,  and  by  moonlight  must  remind 
travelers  from  Italy  of  a  Roman  temple,  half  dismantled. 
Mr.  Wm.  Strickland  is  the  architect.  It  has  been  four 
years  in  building,  and  will  not  be  completed  in  five  more. 
Its  cost  will  be  $2,000,000.  The  material  is  a  white 
limestone,  with  delicately  "watered"  veins.  When  com- 
pleted it  will  be  the  finest  edifice  in  the  Union,  without 
exception. 

Crowning  a  cliflF  that  rises  like  an  island  rock  from 
the  heart  of  the  city,  it  will  have  very  much  the  appear- 
ance of  the  Castle  at  Edinburgh,  and  be  a  distin- 
guished mark  for  the  eye  for  leagues  around.  I  was 
never  more  disappointed  than  I  was  in  the  air  and  style 
of  the  city.  Everything  indicates  taste,  and  the  uses 
of  wealth.  There  is  as  much  fashion  here  as  in  New 
York ;  and  the  ladies  dress  far  more  than  anywhere  else 
I  have  been.  Jewelry  is  much  worn,  even  in  the  street, 
and  especially  at  church.  Riding  on  horseback  is  very 
fashionable,  and  the  costume  a  cJieval  is  elegant  and  re- 
cherche. The  dwellings  are  richly  furnished.  One 
house  I  passed,  built  after  the  plan  of  the  Borghes^ 
Palace  at  Rome,  is  furnished  throughout  with  furniture 


74  THE    SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

made  to  order  in  Paris,  and  is  adorned  with  European 
pictures  and  statuary. 

The  churches  of  this  city  are  not  handsome  or  impos- 
ingTj  And  who  do  you  suppose  I  heard  read  the  service, 

the  last  Sabbath  I  was  in  town  ?     Mr.  H ,  once  an 

author,  who  has  been  for  two  years  past  studying  for 
orders  in  the  church.  He  is  also  principal  of  an  Academy 
for  young  ladies  in  the  city,  a  position  which  he  holds 
temporarily,  until  he  shall  be  ordained.  I  trust  he  will 
be  eminently  useful  as  a  clergyman. 

Speaking  of  authors,  what  a  change  has  come  over 
the  literary  sky !  Star  after  star  disappears  or  falls  from 
it;  Mellen  is  dead;  Bryant  writes  not;  Halleck  will 
write  no  more ;  Hoffman  has  changed  his  poet's  pen  to 
an  accompter's ;  Bird  is  a  politician ;  Simms  has  become 
an  editor  and  historian;  Poe,  poor  Mr.  Poe,  is  dead! 
Hastings  Weld  has  taken  orders.  Willis  has  almost 
ceased  to  write,  except  editorially,  and  very  hastily  at 
that ;  for,  give  Mr.  Willis  time  to  polish  and  adorn,  prune 
and  shape  his  sentences,  and  put  in  the  pretty  thoughts, 
and  his  articles  are  faultless.  No  one  can  excel  him 
therein.  But  let  him  write  currente  calamo,  as  the  col- 
lege men  say,  and  he  is  not  so  interesting.  Morris  is 
editor,  too.  I  hear  his  songs  sung  everywhere  in  the 
West.  He  takes  the  pianos  in  fair  rivalry  with  Tom 
Moore.  If  he  wants  to  know  what  posterity  will  think 
of  him,  let  him  come  out  West.  Willis  too,  is  a  favorite 
this  way.  In  a  girl's  school  the  other  day,  I  heard  two 
of  his  pieces  recited  by  two  lovely  girls,  in  a  manner  that 
would  have  made  the  gentlemanly  author  feel,  had  he 
been  present,  that  he  was  well  repaid  for  the  time  and 
care  of  their  composition.     I  heard,  at  tlie  same  time, 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  ,75 

a  dark-eyed  Grecian  looking  maiden  recite,  with  pathos 
and  fine  taste,  Hallcck's  Marco  Bozzaris.  The  voice  of 
the  West  is  the  echo  of  posterity. 

There  are  no  poets  among  the  men  West,  save  Pren- 
tice ;  and  few  females  who  write.  There  is  much  said  of 
the  playful  genius  of  southern  women,  and  the  fertile 
imagination  of  the  men ;  hut  these  produce  hut  few  au- 
thors. Amelia  of  Kentucky  is  almost  the  only  one 
known.  There  is  far  more  poetical  talent  in  cold  New 
England,  than  in  the  sunny  West.  Portland  is  pecu- 
liarly favorable  to  this  development,  I  have  heard.  It 
has  produced  Mrs.  Stephens,  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Oakes 
Smith,  the  most  imaginative  of  American  poetesses; 
Longfellow  who  will  long  be  remembered  by  his  noble 
"Psalm  of  Life;"  Mellen,  the  forgotten,  and  others. 
AVhat  country  colder  than  Sweden — what  genius  greater 
than  that  of  that  sweet  writer,  Frederika  Bremer ! 
4^  It  seems  to  me  that  the  American  press  is  putting 
forth  nothing  new  from  American  authors.  Our  writers 
seem  all  to  have  turned  Magazine  writers.* 

By  the  way,  French  is  much  studied  here,  and  forms 
a  part  of  every  young  lady's  education.     It  strikes  me 

Mr. ,  that  if  you  would  add  a  French  department  to 

your  other  headings  in  your  paper,  it  would  be  very  well 
received  by  the  thousand  school  misses  into  whose  hands 
your  paper  falls.  I  would  suggest  the  regular  publication 
of  well  written  moral  French  tales,  or  letters,  with  an 
exactly  literal  translation  in  the  opposite  column.  It 
would  be  quite  as  acceptable  to  numerous  contributors, 
as  charades,  and  aid  them  in  their  French,  while  it  will 

f^  *  These  letters  were  written  from  1852  to  1855. 


76  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

improve  their  minds.     I  think  it  would  be  an  interest- 
ing,  as  well  as  a  new  feature  in  your  columns. 

This  being  the  last  of  the  test  letters  I  Avas  to  write 
you,  to  see  whether  you  should  judge  me  fit  to  be  a  con- 
tributor "on  remuneration."  I  shall  write  no  further 
till  I  learn  the  decision  of  your  august  tribunal. 

Yours, 

Kate. 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  77 


LETTER    XI. 

Mr. : 

Your  very  kind  letter  of  the  1st  inst.,  conveying  to 
me  the  unhoped  for,  but  welcome  intelligence,  that  you 
have  decided  to  enlist  me  among  your  corps  of  contribu- 
tors, was  duly  received.  I  know  not  how,  adequately,  to 
express  to  you,  the  deep  gratitude  of  my  heart,  for  this 
decision ;  for  I  feel  that  it  was  given  rather  through  your 
kind  generosity,  than  through  any  merit  which  my  un- 
fledged pen  could  lay  claim  to.  I  shall,  therefore,  do 
my  best  to  show  you  how  deeply  I  appreciate  your  good- 
ness, and  resolve  that  my  "Needles"  shall  be  always 
sharp  withal,  that  you  shall  never  have  cause  to  regret 
your  decision  in  my  favor. 

My  simple  goose  quill  already  begins  to  feel  its  dignity, 
held  in  an  authoress's  fingers  !  It  bristles  its  snowy  mane 
and  curves  its  polished  neek  with  the  pride  of  an  Arabian 
courser.  It  realizes  its  importance.  It  feels  that  it  is 
possible  that  one  day  it  may  be  knocked  off  at  an  auc- 
tion of  "rare  curiosities,"  for  not  less  than  ten  golden 
eagles,  as  authors'  stump  pens  have  been  before  to-day. 
My  inkstand,  which  is  a  lion  couchant,  with  the  ink  in 
his  ears,  seems  to  raise  his  majestic  head  with  unwonted 
dignity  as  he  yields  it  to  the  thirsty  pen.  The  very 
paper  is  eloquent  in  its  spotless  robes,  and  seems  to  say : 
"Remember  thou  art  an  authoress,  and  be  careful  what 


78  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OB, 

you  trace  upon  me,  for  thy  words  may  be  immortal  I" 
Oh,  the  sweet,  trembling,  timid,  happy  feeling  of  author- 
ship !  How  the  heart  bounds  at  the  sight  of  our  first 
thoughts,  which  we  know  (yet  hardly  realize  it;  have 
been  made  visible  to  the  eyes  of  other  in  type !  We 
think  little  of  seeing  our  own  ideas  written;  hut  printed, 
they  create  sensations  indescribable,  half  delight,  half 
awe,  a  mingled  state  of  bliss  and  fear,  that  none  who 
have  not  been  "in  print,"  can  ever  experience. 

I  suppose  the  young  merchant,  who,  for  the  first  time, 
sees  his  name  heading  his  showy  advertisement  in  the 
morning  paper,  or  gazes  from  the  opposite  side  of  the 
way  upon  it  painted  upon  his  sign  in  gold  letters,  upon  a 
blue  ground,  experiences  pleasure,  novel  and  strange. 
But  this  emotion  is  not  to  be  compared  with  that  of  the 
author,  who,  for  the  first  time,  sees  the  copy  of  the  deep, 
hitherto  unspoken,  unconfided  thoughts  of  his  soul  legible 
in  type  to  every  eye !  Ilis  thoughts  thus  made  public, 
are  more  than  a  mere  painted  name,  they  are  a  part  of 
himself,  a  ray  of  the  outgoings  of  his  spirit !  It  is  like 
beholding  himself  with  an  introverted  mirror !  Therefore, 
the  poet  loves  his  verses,  after  has  subsided  his  first  awe 
and  surprise  at  beholding  them  in  print,  (which  a  little 
time  before  he  had  found  dwelling  in  the  bottom  of  his 
soul's  deep  being,)  loves  them  as  a  man,  with  all  his  faults, 
loves  himself ! 

Who  then  will  laugh  at  the  dullest  rhymer  for  being 
enamored  with  his  own  verses  ?  We  might  as  well  laugh 
at  him  for  loving  himself.  He  thinks  his  verses  as  good 
as  his  talk,  and  what  man  was  ever  persuaded  that  he 
did  not  talk  well ;  or  else  all  bad  talkers  would  be  for- 
ever silent !     When  we  can  convince  a  poor  talker  that 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  79 

he  ^8  a  poor  talker,  then  will  appear  the  Eighth  wonder, 
viz :  a  poor  poet  convinced  that  he  is  a  poor  poet.  His 
poetry,  like  his  conversation,  is  himself,  and  himself 
like  China  on  the  "Celestial"  map,  is  the  centre  of  the 
universe. 

Now  from  what  I  have  said,  good  Mr. ,  you  will 

be  fairly  persuaded  that,  write  I  ever  so  stupidly,  it  will 
be  useless  in  you  or  anybody  else,  to  attempt  to  impress 
upon  my  mind  a  healthy  sense  of  stupidity.  This  is, 
therefore,  throwing  down  the  gauntlet  to  you  and  the 
critics,  (if  such  a  little  bird  as  I  be  worthy  of  their  aim,) 
not  to  make  the  attempt  to  enlighten  my  intellectual 
twilight.  I  have  to  thank  some  friendly  pen  for  a  letter 
addressed  to  me  in  your  columns ;  although  it  appears  to 
come  from  a  juvenile  author,  it  is,  nevertheless,  worthy 
of  my  attentive  recognition,  as  an  evidence  that  some 
warm  heart  seeks  to  express  its  approving  sense  of  my 
brief  literary  attempts.  I  have  also  seen  a  pretty  poem, 
addressed  to  me,  which,  albeit,  something  bold  and 
school-boyish  in  its  audacity,  yet  it  is  frank  and  hearty  in 
its  tone,  and  the  writer  merits  my  thanks  for  his  kind 
wishes.  Speaking  of  poetry,  reminds  me  how  little  true 
poetry  there  is  written  now-a-days.  Some  one  has  said 
that  there  are  fifteen  hundred  papers  printed  in  the 
Union ;  in  most  of  these,  weekly,  appear  one  or  more  pieces 
of  original  poetry,  say  twelve  hundred  perpetrations 
rhythmical,  per  week,  which  multiplied  by  52,  the  num- 
ber of  weeks  in  a  year,  would  give  the  amazing  number 
of  60,000  pieces  of  original  poetry,  printed  in  our  news- 
paper columns  in  a  year !  Of  these  not  more  than  sixty 
annually  are  worth  preserving  or  republishing,  that  is, 
one  in  a  thousand!     What  a  despairing  computation! 


80  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

I  am  half  afraid  that,  by  daring  to  have  made  it,  I  shall 
be  the  innocent  cause  of  driving  some  hundreds  of  these 
ambitious  poets  to  running  themselves  through  the  heart 
with  their  steel  pens,  or  taking  ink  inwardly. 

I  have  been  recently  looking  over  the  ''  Male  and  Fe- 
male Poets  of  America,"  and  I  cannot  lay  my  finger  on 
a  score  of  poems  of  which  I  could  unhesitatingly  say, 
"  That  is  imperishable  !"  Most  of  the  poems  of  our  book 
poets,  like  the  editorials  of  editors,  have  fulfilled  their 
destiny  when  once  in  print.  Longfellow  has  written  two 
pieces,  his  Psalm  of  Life,  and  the  noble  verses  in  which 
the  Union  is  finely  metaphored  as  a  builded  ship  of  oak 
and  iron,  which  will  weather  all  time.  Bryant's  Thana- 
topsis,  (if  he  will  revise  and  strengthen  by  condensing  it 
here  and  there,)  will  never  cease  to  be  admired  so  long 
as  men  are  born  to  die.  Halleck's  Marco  Bozzaris,  it 
seems  to  me,  holds  in  suspension  the  elements  of  undy- 
ing life.  Simms  in  the  South  is  a  noble  poet.  One  or 
more  songs  of  the  lyric  poet,  Morris,  and  two  or  three 
of  Willis's  sacred  pieces,  are  imperishable  so  long  as 
nature  and  veneration  remain  the  same  as  they  now  are 
in  the  human  breast.  Besides  these,  I  can  find  none 
that  give  promise  of  surviving  the  ages  to  come !  We 
have  written  a  great  deal  for  the  nineteenth  century, 
but  scarcely  any  thing  for  the  twenty-fifth !  What  is 
literary  immortality  ?  Do  our  poets  know  what  it  means, 
that  each  expects  it?  It  is  the  thoughts  of  one  or  two 
individual  men  surviving  the  oblivion  of  800,000,000 
of  men,  their  contemporaries.  For  of  every  generation 
of  800,000,000  of  men  in  all  ages  past,  but  two  or  three 
have  left  their  names  or  works  to  us  !  It  is  but  a  twenty 
minutes'  task  to  enumerate  all  the  immortal  writers  of 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  81 

all  nations,  from  Moses  to  Chaucer.  They  are  hardly 
as  many  for  3000  years  as  appear  in  the  monthly  pub- 
lished list  of  letters  in  a  city  newspaper  !  They  are  one 
living  man  to  a  hundred  millions  dead !  Who,  then, 
shall  dare  to  prophesy  for  his  productions,  or  for  his 
name,  immortality?  Who  shall  be  so  vain  as  to  take 
offence  when  it  is  questioned  if  after  the  800,000,000 
now  on  earth  have  been  two  thousand  years  dead,  he 
himself,  or  aught  that  he  has  written,  though  he  be 
embalmed  in  Griswold's  "Doomsday  Book,"  shall  be 
remembered !  Immortality  !  Perpetuity  of  memory  in 
the  hearts  of  the  myriads  of  the  mighty  future !  For 
whose  single  brow,  now  on  earth,  shall  the  men  of  the 
year  6000  wreath  the  laureled  crown?  Whose  name, 
of  those  millions  of  men  who  walk  the  city  streets  to- 
day, shall  the  youths  and  maidens  to  be  born  twelve 
hundred  years  hence,  have  familiarly  on  their  lips,  as 
we  have  the  names  of  Homer,  of  Virgil,  of  Shakespeare, 
of  Milton,  of  David  ?  Immortality  !  How  few  under- 
stand thy  meaning  when  they  speak  of  thee  !     You  will 

see,  dear  Mr. ,  that  I  have  very  little  hopes  of  being 

immortalized  through  my  pen !  I  confess  the  chances 
are  against  me,  800,000,000  to  1.  You  have,  therefore, 
the  unique  satisfaction  of  having  a  contributor  who  never 
expects  to  be  quoted  by  the  literati  of  the  year  6000, 
A.  M.  There  is  an  immortality,  however,  which  all  may 
gain — which  springs  from  the  heart,  not  from  the  intel- 
lect— which  looks  to  the  approbation  of  angels,  and  not 
of  men — to  a  world  that  shall  exist  when  the  last  year 
of  the  last  century  of  this  earth  shall  have  closed  forever 
upon  all  human  hopes,  compared  with  which  immortality, 

that  of  this  world  is  but  an  echo. 
6 


82  THE  SUNNY  south;  or, 

The  colonel  has  just  laid  on  my  table  Ticknor's  Spa- 
nish Literature,    and   Emerson's    "Nature."      I   shall, 
therefore,  feast  for  the  next  three  days.     If  I  find  any    I 
thing  that  strikes  me  as  valuable  in  either  of  these 
books,  you  shall  have  the  benefit  of  my  reading. 

I  have  heard  rifles  or  shot-guns  cracking  all  the  morn- 
ing in  the  forest  over  by  the  tarn,  and  therefore  judge 
the  game  to  be  abundant.  To-morrow  I  am  going  deer- 
hunting  !  I  don't  mean  to  be  so  cruel  as  to  kill  (for  I 
can  shoot,  Mr. ,  and  hit  too  !)  the  pretty  white- 
breasted  does,  or  the  majestic  stag,  with  his  proud,  an- 
tlered  head  tossing  in  the  air !  Yet,  I  am  all  curiosity 
to  witness  a  hunt. 

Good-bye,  sir, 

Kate. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  83 


LETTER    XII. 

Mr. : 

My  dear  sir,  did  you  ever  shoot  a  deer?  But  I 
dare  say  you  don't  have  deer  to  shoot  in  Independence 
Square  !  Do  you  think  it  would  be  cruel  to  kill  one  if 
you  had  them  there?  One  week  ago  I  was  innocent  of 
the  blood  of  any  one  of  these  pretty,  brown  animals ; 
but,  alas  !  I  am  sorry  to  confess  that  I  have  shot  a  deer 
since  I  last  wrote  you,  and  although  it  is  not  dead,  I 
feel  as  badly  as  if  I  had  wounded  a  helpless,  human  be- 
ing. Its  reproachful,  pleading  look,  as  it  turned  its 
large,  intelligent  eyes  upon  me,  I  can  never  forget !  I 
will  tell  you  how  it  happened. 

The  colonel  had  been  invited  to  "Chestnut  Ridge," 
seven  miles  from  the  Park,  by  an  old  military  friend, 
who  is  as  keen  a  sportsman  as  Nimrod  ever  was,  to  hunt 
deer.  The  invitation  was  accepted,  and  Isabel  and  my- 
self were  taken  along  with  the  gallant  colonel  to  witness 
the  sport !  Sad  sport  to  see  the  innocent  animals  that  so 
grace  the  glade  of  the  green  forest  slaughtered  !  Rising 
with  the  dawn,  we  took  an  early  breakfast,  and  mounted 
our  horses  just  as  the  sun,  like  a  wheel  of  gold,  rolled 
up  the  east.  I  was  no  longer  mounted  on  the  spirited 
and  pretty  little  mule,  which  played  me  such  a  runaway 
prank  last  November,  but  rode  a  handsome  black  pony, 
with  a  long  tail  and  a  magnificent  mane,  and  the  smallest 


M  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

ears  conceivable.  His  pace  was  as  gentle  as  a  cradle, 
and  he  stepped  over  the  grass,  as  if  he  trod  on  velvet 
in  a  drawing-room.  The  colonel  rode  a  noble  charger, 
of  a  dark-baj  color,  with  a  neck  arched  and  proud,  like 
a  war-horse ;  and  such  he  was,  for  the  colonel  had  rid- 
den him  into  many  a  battle  strife  on  the  fields  of  Mexico. 
The  superb  animal,  as  he  pawed  the  earth  and  pranced 
along  through  the  woodlands,  seemed  still  "  to  smell  the 
battle  afar  off,  and  the  thunder  of  the  captains  and  the 
shouting."    What  grace  and  strength  were  united  in  him  ! 

Next  to  man,  the  horse  is  unquestionably  the  noblest 
created  thing.  But  of  all  majestic  forms  conceivable  to 
human  imagination,  I  have  never  seen  any  thing  that 
equals  that  mighty  tri-formed  figure  to  be  found  por- 
trayed in  Layard's  Nineveh.  I  mean  the  sublime  form 
composed  of  a  body  of  a  lion,  of  the  wings  of  an  eagle, 
and  of  the  face  of  a  man.  No  one  can  gaze  upon  it  with- 
out admiration  and  awe.  It  represents  strength,  fleet- 
ness,  and  intelligence  embodied,  and  the  result  is  a 
creature  that  rivals  in  dignity,  majesty,  and  glory,  and 
symmetry,  man  himself! 

But  I  am  running  away  from  my  party.  Isabel,  the 
beautiful,  Spanish-looking  Isabel,  rode  by  her  father's 
left  hand,  mounted  upon  a  mottled  palfrey  that  seemed 
formed  especially  for  herself.  His  small  head,  his  trans- 
parent, pink  nostrils,  his  slender  fetlocks  as  neat  as  a 
lady's  ankle,  his  dainty  footfall,  as  his  deerlike  hoofs 
picked  out  the  smoothest  way  for  his  mistress,  were  all 
characteristics  of  the  Arabian  race,  from  which  it  claimed 
lineage.  What  decided  aristocracy  there  is  in  the  horse ! 
They  differ  as  widely  from  each  other  as  men  do,  and 
how  widely  these  are  separate  in  excellency  of  lineage  I 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  85 

There  is  nobility  of  birth  as  there  is  vulgarity  of  birth ! 
There  are  gentlemen  who  are  gentlemen  by  nature. 
I  am  not  a  believer  in  the  axiom  that  all  men  are  born 
equal,  and  that  education,  or  the  "want  of  it,  makes  men 
equal.  There  is  gentility  and  refinement  of  feature  that 
education  cannot  give,  and  there  is  vulgarity  of  feature 
that  education  cannot  ennoble.  When  a  double-headed, 
double-jointed  plough-horse,  or  any  of  its  kith,  can  be 
educated  to  win  a  Derby  cup,  then  I  shall  believe  that  a 
vulgar  mind  and  a  vulgar  face  can,  by  education,  be  re- 
fined and  ennobled.  We  had  a  merry  ride  of  it  through 
the  grand  woods !  How  we  laughed  till  echo  laughed 
again.  One  can  be  as  noisy  as  one  pleases  in  the  coun- 
try. There  was  a  white  frost  on  the  ground,  and  the 
crisp  grass  crashed  and  crackled  as  we  pressed  its  crystal 
spears.  The  birds  (for  many  birds  dwell  in  the  forest 
here  all  the  year  round)  were  singing  to  the  morning  with 
gladness  in  their  tiny  breasts ;  the  squirrel  bounded 
from  limb  to  limb,  or  raced  with  nimble  feet  across  the 
sward,  and  darted  up  some  tall  trunk,  going  higher  and 
higher,  and  carefully  keeping  on  the  side  opposite  to  us ; 
for  they  are  a  cunning  wee  thing,  with  their  bushy  tails 
arched  over  their  round  backs,  and  their  twinkling,  pretty 
eyes  as  watchful  as  weasels.  There  was  no  regular  forest 
path,  but  we  threaded  the  wood  at  will,  for  the  trees 
grew  far  asunder,  and  the  total  absence  of  underbrush 
made  it  like  park-land.  The  surface  of  the  country 
was  undulating  and  picturesque.  At  one  time  we  would 
descend  to  a  gurgling  brook  rushing  hoarsely  away  from 
the  rocks  in  its  bed,  and,  fording  its  translucent  waters 
at  another  time,  find  ourselves  at  the  top  of  a  ridge  that 
opened  to  us  a  far  spread  river  view. 


86  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

In  our  ride  of  five  miles  we  met  but  three  persons. 
One  of  these  was  an  old  African  with  a  head  as  white  as 
wool,  and  a  face,  venerable  and  lined  with  age,  and  a  snowy 
beard.  His  appearance  was  striking,  and  reminded  me 
of  a  hlach  patriarch,  especially  as  he  wore  a  gray  blanket 
over  his  shoulder  like  a  mantle.  And  let  me  remark, 
that  a  blanket  completes  a  negro's  winter  costume 
here ;  sometimes  it  is  made  into  a  coat,  but  more  fre- 
quently, for  the  advantage  of  having  it  as  a  covering 
at  night,  worn  entire,  like  a  shawl,  or  a  Spanish  poncho. 
The  African  was  leading  a  tall  Congo  stripling,  half-naked 
to  the  waist,  who  had  a  hanging  -countenance,  as  if  he 
were  an  offender  of  some  sort. 

"  That  is  old  Juba  with  his  grandson  Tom,  tied,"  said 
the  colonel,  as  they  drew  near.  "  Tom  has  been  playing 
the  runaway  in  the  woods  these  three  weeks.  So,  uncle 
Juba,"  added  the  colonel  in  the  kind,  famihar  tone  in 
which  masters  here,  who  are  gentlemen,  address  their  old 
slaves  ;  "so  you've  caught  Tom  ?" 

"  Ees,  mosse,  me  cotch  de  berry  bad  boy !  He  nebber 
raise  hcself  for  noting  good  uf  he  get  de  habit  ob  runnin' 
'way  dis  way  !  Old  Juba  feel  berry  shame  ob  him.  Me 
gib  him  frashun,  me  git  him  home.  He  disgrace  to  de 
family  !  Come  'long,  you  nigger,  a'n't  you  shame  youself, 
run  off  in  de  wood  like  a  dog-tief  ?" 

With  this  appeal,  the  old  man  gave  the  thong  a  jerk, 
and,  touching  his  old  hat  in  respectful  homage  to  his 
master  and  to  ourselves  as  "young  mississes,"  dragged 
his  ragamuffin  grandson  of  eighteen  years  on  the  way 
back  to  the  plantation. 

"That  old  negro,"  said  the  colonel,  as  we  rode  on, 
"  has  been  in  my  family  seventy-eight  years.     He  was 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  87 

bought  by  my  grandfather  before  the  Revolution  from 
an  African  trader  that  came  into  Jamestown  with  a  load 
of  slaves  from  the  coast  of  Africa.  He  was  then  a  lad 
of  fourteen,  and  is  of  course  now  ninety -two ;  yet  he  is 
never  idle,  is  active  and  faithful,  and  is  a  sort  of  patri- 
arch over  the  rest  of  the  slaves,  half  of  whom  are  his 
descendants.  He  has  not  yet  forgotten  his  African  lan- 
guage, which  he  still  speaks  when  he  is  vexed,  nor  has 
he  dropped  his  heathenish  superstitions.  He  wears  about 
his  neck  full  half  a  dozen  charms  of  one  sort  or  another, 
and  is  a  firm  believer  in  the  devil,  whom  he  says  he  has 
seen  bodily  a  hundred  times.  His  influence  over  the 
negroes  is  very  extraordinary.  They  stand  in  awe  of 
him.  His  grandson,  you  see,  is  a  tall,  stout  fellow,  and 
might  get  away  from  him ;  but  he  would  as  soon  think 
of  striking  the  old  man  as  resisting  his  authority. 

We  had  not  ridden  more  than  a  mile  after  parting 
with  Juba  and  his  captive,  when  we  saw  a  figure  standing 
as  motionless  as  a  statue  in  the  forest  ahead  of  us.  The 
attitude  was  free  and  commanding,  and  a  nearer  ap- 
proach showed  us  that  it  was  an  Indian.  He  was  lean- 
ing on  his  rifle.  He  wore  a  sort  of  coronet,  made  of 
brass,  encircling  his  crow-black  head,  and  ornamented 
with  crow  and  eagle's  feathers.  He  was  dressed  in  a 
blue  frock,  trimmed  with  tarnished  gold  lace,  and  belted 
close  to  his  body  by  a  stout  leathern  cincture.  Hanging 
upon  his  brawny  chest  were  several  silver  medals.  On 
liis  left  wrist  were  five  hoops  or  bracelets  of  brass,  close 
together,  and  being  riveted  on  whole,  were  evidently 
meant  to  be  worn  till  his  death.  He  wore  deer-skin  leg- 
gins,  the  seams  fringed,  and  his  feet  were  encated  in 
once  handsomely  ornamented  moccasins,  which  haa  seen 


>t 


88  THE    SUNNY    SOUTH:    OR, 

service.  In  his  belt  were  a  powder-horn,  a  long  knife 
in  a  sheath  of  serpent's  skin,  a  pouch  for  balls,  flints,  &c, 
and  another  large  one  for  miscellaneous  articles.  His 
rifle  was  very  long,  slender,  without  any  groove-stock 
for  the  barrel  to  rest  in,  and  had  a  flint  lock.  I  had 
time  to  observe  all  these  particulars,  for  we  stopped  and 
held  some  minutes'  "talk"  with  the  warrior;  for  warrior 
he  was,  having  fought  under  General  Jackson  long  years 
agone ;  and  two  of  the  medals  suspended  from  his  neck 
were  bestowed  upon  him,  the  colonel  said,  by  the  "hero." 
The  Indian  was  full  sixty  years  of  age,  but  time  had 
scarcely  whitened  a  hair  of  his  lofty  head.  Proud,  stern, 
dignified  as  a  king,  he  neither  moved  nor  regarded  us  as 
we  rode  up  to  him. 

"Good  morning.  Captain  John,"  said  the  colonel;  "a 
fine  day  for  the  deer !  You  seem  to  be  on  the  chase  as 
well  as  we!" 

The  Indian  chief  smiled  at  hearing  the  courteous  and 
bland  words  of  the  colonel,  and  answered  in  a  deep  bary- 
tone, that  completely  came  up  to  my  idea  of  a  "manly 
voice." 

"Ya,  white  chief!  Good  morn'!  Deer  not  much 
plenty !  Good  day  hunt,  but  deer  not  much  plenty ! 
White  man  leave  no  more  deer  for  Indian  rifle!"  and  he 
slowly  shook  his  head,  cast  his  eyes  sadly  to  the  earth, 
and  remained  silent. 

"Why  do  you  and  your  people  not  remove  west, 
chief?"  asked  the  colonel.  "  You  will  find  vast  hunting 
grounds  there — no  white  man  will  intrude  upon  you— 
you  can  there  be  happy  and  powerful !" 

"Indian  never  more  be  great,  white  chiefl"  responded 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  W 

the  old  warrior,  with  a  heavy  cloud  darkening  the  noble 
outline  of  his  Washington  like  features. 

As  he  spoke,  he  turned  and  strode  away  with  the  air 
and  bearing  of  Forrest  as  Metamora,  save  that  the  one 
is  imitation,  and  the  other  nature. 

"Who  is  that  noble  looking  chief?"  I  inquired  of 
the  colonel,  for  his  sullen  pride  and  solitary  condition 
had  inspired  me  with  a  curiosity  to  know  his  history. 

"That  is  the  celebrated  Creek  chief  Nelastora,"  was 
his  reply,  as  we  resumed  our  ride,  while  the  chief  disap- 
peared in  the  depths  of  the  woodland.  "He  was  an  ally 
of  Jackson's  in  the  Indian  wars,  and  was  of  great  assist- 
ance to  the  cause.  The  encroachments  of  civilization 
upon  his  hunting  grounds,  which  were  once  a  hundred 
miles  in  extent  through  this  region,  have  compelled  most 
of  his  tribe  to  remove  to  the  west  of  the  Mississippi. 
But  he  and  a  few  of  his  friends  refuse  to  go.  He  has 
sworn,  I  am  told,  upon  the  graves  of  his  fathers,  that  he 
will  never  desert  them,  but  remain  to  protect  and  die 
upon  them !  And  he  will  keep  his  word.  Sometimes  he 
is  seen  a  hundred  miles  south  of  this,  but  he  is  never 
long  absent  from  the  central  seat  of  his  tribe,  which  is  a 
beautiful  valley  thirty  miles  to  the  east  and  south  of  us. 
I  have  before  met  him  in  the  forest,  but  he  refused  all 
offers  of  hospitality,  and  will  cross  the  threshold  of  no 
white  man.  Crockett  and  this  chief  were  once  like 
brothers,  yet  he  never  sat  at  the  American  hunter's 
board.  Three  years  ago,  Nelastora  was  seen  standing 
by  General  Jackson's  grave  at  the  Hermitage,  regarding 
it  in  silence ;  but  when  he  was  approached,  he  haughtily 
retired." 

By  the  time  the  colonel  had  ended  this  history,  we 


90  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

■were  winding  up  an  avenue  that  led  to  the  mansion 
house  of  the  old  soldier,  whom  we  had  visited  for  the 
purpose  of  hunting  deer  with  him. 

On  either  hand,  the  ancient  woods  were  replaced  bj 
broad  cotton  fields,  which  at  this  season  were  unplanted. 
A  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  house,  a  white  gate,  thrown 
open  by  half  a  dozen  little  shining-eyed  negroes,  con- 
ducted us  to  the  grounds  more  immediately  contiguous 
with  the  house,  viz :  a  wide  rolling  lawn,  adorned  at  in- 
tervals with  native  fruit  trees.  We  approached  the 
verandah  of  the  house  at  a  hard  gallop,  and  were  re- 
ceived by  our  military  host  with  a  hearty  old-fashioned 
hospitality,  that  could  only  be  exceeded  by  the  polished 
courtesy  of  his  manners.     He  kissed  both  Isabel  and 

me!    But  then,  Mr.  ,  he  was  full  fifty-nine,  had 

gray  whiskers,  and — and  he  always  made  it  a  point  of 
kissing  all  pretty  young  ladies  that  came  to  see  him.  So, 
unless  you  are  fifty-nine,  and  have  gray  whiskers,  you 
mustn't  presume  upon  this  circumstance  to  think — to 
think — ^you  may  end  the  sentence  yourself,  if  you  please. 

Good  bye, 

Kate. 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  91 


LETTER    XIII. 


Dear  Mr. : 

Please  present  fny  smiling  thanks  to  your  talented 
correspondent  "  Rusticus,"  of  Wilmington,  for  his  grace- 
ful verses  addressed  to  me.  I  feel  flattered  bj  his  com- 
pliments, while  I  blush  that  I  am  not  more  deserving  of 
them.  The  thought  is  singularly  pleasing  to  me,  that 
the  crude  efforts  of  my  untutored  pen  find  readers  who 
sympathize  with  and  understand  me.  These  kind  per- 
sons are  all  my  friends  'henceforward  !  I  see  them  with 
the  eyes  of  my  spirit,  and  embrace  them  with  my  heart. 
One  day,  if  not  on  earth,  we  shall  meet  in  heaven,  and 
recognize  each  other,  and  be  friends  in  sweet  communion 
forever. 

When  I  by  chance  meet  here,  in  this  poor  world,  a 
kindred  being,  whom  to  know  and  love  is  happiness,  I 
think  how  many  such  gentle  and  good  ones  the  world 
contains,  whom  I  shall  never  see  on  earth !  When  this 
thought  comes  over  my  spirit,  I  feel  sad  that  we  must 
pass  away  unknown  to  each  other ;  but  the  bright  world 
seen  by  faith  beyond  this  reassures  me,  and  I  take  cour- 
age and  rejoice,  believing  that  in  the  spaces  of  eternity 
all  who  are  shaped  in  the  same  mould  of  love  will  find 
each  other,  and  so  the  beautiful,  and  good,  and  lovely 
of  earth,  though  on  earth  I  meet  them  not,  are  not  for- 
ever lost  to  me.     Is  not  this  a  thought  to  make  the  lone 


92  THE    SUNNY    SOUTH;    OR, 

heart  strong  ?  But  I  must  tell  you  about  my  deer-hunt. 
Rusticus  seems  to  question  the  truth  of  the  account  of 
the  fox-hunt,  but  if  he  had  spent  a  few  days  in  this  re- 
gion of  adventure,  he  would  not  hedge  in  his  credulity 
so  closely.  Pray,  why  may  not  a  lady  have  adventures, 
and  dashing  ones,  too,  as  well  as  the  "Lords?"  Be- 
shrew  me,  but  the  esprit  du  camp  is  not  all  under  the 
round  hat !  I  know  a  young  lady  not  six  miles  from  the 
Park,  who  is  a  celebrated  tamer  of  young  steeds,  and, 
mounted  upon  their  backs,  whips  them  bravely  into  sub- 
mission. Di  Vernon  is  a  tame  maiden  compared  with 
her.  She  can  shoot  a  rifle,  hit  a  rose-bud  at  ten  paces 
with  a  pistol,  and  take  a  partridge  on  the  wing.  I  will, 
perhaps,  talk  about  her  at  another  time.  I  must  now 
make  myself  heroine.  Mr.  Rusticus  Doubtful,  I  shall 
rap  you  over  the  knuckles,  sir  poet ! 

I  have  told  you,  Mr. ,  how  we  were  met  by  the 

old  soldier  when  we  drew  rein  at  his  gallery,  ^he  house 
was  a  long,  low,  rambling  edifice,  such  as  is  peculiar  to 
the  plantations  in  the  South,  with  a  light  gallery  sup- 
ported by  slender  columns  extending  along  the  front. 
A  wide,  natural  lawn,  dotted  with  huge  forest-trees,  ex- 
tended around  it,  smooth  as  a  green  plush-carpet.  On 
it  were  four  or  five  beautiful  horses  cropping  the  sweet 
grass,  two  gentle-eyed,  tame  deer,  a  heady-looking  goat 
with  a  beard  like  a  Jew,  a  little  innocent  lambkin  with  a 
broken  leg  which  was  neatly  splintered  and  bandaged  by 
the  old  soldier's  own  hands,  and  a  strutting  turkey-gob- 
bler with  pride  enough  for  the  Autocrat  of  all  the  Russias, 
and  scarlet  enough  for  a  Cardinal's  cap.  It  was  a  pretty, 
quiet  scene,  with  the  golden  bars  of  sunshine  laid  along 
between  the  openings  among  the  trees,  and  the  birds 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  93 

singing  in  the  branches,  which  the  morning  wind  was 
waving  and  stirring  with  the  motion  of  life.  The  old 
white-whiskered  warrior  escorted  us  into  his  spacious 
drawing-room,  holding  Isabel  by  one  hand  and  me  with 
the  other,  like  a  gallant  gentleman  of  the  old  school  as 
he  was.  We  were  no  sooner  seated,  one  on  each  side 
of  him,  than  a  servant  entered  with  a  quaternion  of 
mint-juleps,  in  tall  silver  tumblers,  a  golden  straw  of  wheat 
projecting  from  each  verdant  pyramid  a-top.  Nothing 
would  do  but  that  Isabel  and  I  should  take  one.  The 
old  gentleman  would  not  be  said  Nay.  He  was  one  of 
that  class  of  men  who  fancy  that  "no"  means  "yes," 
when  spoken  by  young  ladies ;  nay,  he  even  went  so  far 
as  to   asseverate  as  much^    I  had  to  take  the  julep. 

Just  imagine  me,  Mr. ,  seated  with  a  riding-whip  in 

one  hand,  and  a  mint-julep,  piled  up  like  "  Ossa  upon 
Pelion,"  in  the  other,  communicating  with  my  lips  by 
the  hollow  tube  of  straw  aforesaid,  and  imbibing  like  a 
smoker  his  tobacco,  the  perfumed  nectar  of  the  distilled 
and  delicate  compound.  I  must  confess  it  was  delicious  ! 
Don't  tell  the  good  temperance  folks  that  I  say  so  for 
the  world !  but  it  was  truly  refreshing.  I  didn't  wish 
to  sip  enough  to  get  into  my  head;  so,  after  five  or  six 
charming  sips,  I  placed  the  silver  goblet,  still  full,  upon 
the  salver.  Do  you  not  admire  my  self-denial  imder  the 
circumstances  ? 

I  spent  an  hour  admiring  the  pictures  and  curiosities 
in  the  old  soldier's  handsomely-arranged  rooms.  Over 
the  mantel  was  a  large,  full  length  of  the  Hero  of  New 
Orleans,  at  middle  age,  in  the  uniform  of  a  colonel.  It 
was  an  admirable  head,  and  struck  me  as  the  personifi- 
cation of  energy  of  will,  a  quality  for  which  the  "  Gene- 


94  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

ral"  was  afterward  distinguished  above  all  other  Ame- 
ricans. 

"  You  admire  the  Hero?"  said  the  host,  as  he  observed 
us  closely  studying  the  expression  of  the  face  of  the 
Iron  Man  of  the  New  World. 

"  Greatly,"  I  answered. 

"He  was  a  great  man.  Miss  Kate!"  responded  the 
soldier  and  companion  in  arms,  with  a  liquid  sparkle 
visible  in  his  eyes.  I  love  to  see  tears  in  brave  men's 
eyes ! 

"You  knew  him  well,  major?"  I  said,  interrogatively. 

"  We  were  as  brothers,  or  rather  as  father  and  son,  for 
though  I  am  gray,  he  was  twenty  years  my  senior.  He 
was  a  lion  in  battle,  and  an  eagle  in  pursuit.  He  was 
born  to  command.  He  read  men  as  I  read  a  child's 
book.  They  have  said  he  was  cruel.  It  is  not  true ! 
He  loved  to  exercise  mercy.  Let  me  tell  you  an  anec- 
dote to  illustrate  his  character.  A  soldier  had  deserted 
his  post  to  go  home  to  a  dying  father.  He  was  arrested 
kneeling  at  his  father's  bedside  receiving  his  dying 
blessing.  He  begged  to  be  permitted  to  remain  to 
close  his  eyes,  'when,'  he  said,  'he  would  ready.'  He 
was  taken  to  the  camp,  then  in  Florida.  He  was 
tried  by  a  court-martial,  and  condemned  to  be  shot. 
The  General  signed  his  sentence  of  death  on  a  drum- 
head. I  saw  him  do  it,  and  I  saw  a  tear  drop,  like  a 
drop  of  falling  rain  upon  the  hollow  drum-head.  But 
those  who  saw  not  the  tear,  but  marked  only  the  stern 
lines  of  his  face,  thought  him  unfeeling !"  Here  the  major 
frowned,  and  looked  fierce  to  hide  and  keep  back  the 
liquid  drops  that  had  been  growing  larger  every  moment, 
too  large  for  his  eyes  to  hold;  but  spite  of  his  bent 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  95 

brows,  they  found  their  channels  and  rolled,  pearls  of 
price,  adown  his  -battle-browned  cheeks.  What  are 
tears?     Can  any  tell  what  and  why  are  tears? 

"The  poor  man  was  at  length  led  forth  to  execution," 
resumed  the  major,  who  had  caught  one  of  his  tears  slyly 
on  the  back  of  his  hand,  while  the  other  broke,  as  he 
thought  unobserved,  upon  the  marble  hearthstone;  "the 
detachment  which  was  detailed  to  execute  the  sentence, 
was  drawn  up  about  fifty  paces  from  the  general's  tent. 
The  whole  army  were  drawn  up  in  line  to  witness  the 
death  of  the  deserter.  The  general  remained  in  his  tent. 
He  was  pacing  up  and  down  calmly  and  thoughtfully. 
There  wanted  but  a  minute  to  the  signal  for  death,  when 
suddenly  he  ordered  the  deserter  to  be  brought  before 
him.  The  man  was  led  blindfolded  as  he  was  to  his 
tent.  'Larnham,'  said  the  general  to  the  deadly  pale 
man,  'you  have  forfeited  your  life  by  the  laws  of  war. 
I  therefore  signed  the  warrant  for  your  execution.  You 
have  merited  life  by  your  filial  obedience ;  I  therefore 
repeal  the  sentence  of  the  court  martial  and  pardon  you ; 
and  may  every  son  be  as  worthy  of  the  name  as  you  have 
proved  yourself  to  be!'  The  poor  man  fell  at  the 
general's  feet  and  embraced  his  knees,  and  the  army 
without  hurrahed  as  one  man ;  for  the  filial  piety  of  the 
deserter  had  found  a  responsive  chord  in  every  heart,  and 
the  pardoning  act  awakened  its  echo." 

There  was  a  stand  of  colors  in  the  corner  of  the  room 
which  the  m^'or  had  carried  at  the  head  of  his  battalion ; 
and  there  were  many  ornaments  around,  consisting  of 
war-hatchets,  bows,  quivers,  wampums,  crests  of  eagle's 
feathers,  painted  deer  skins,  fringed  and  embroidered,  all 
presents  from  Indian  chiefs.     The  major  showed  me  a 


96  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

war  club  which  was  fringed  with  human  hair,  and  which 
he  said  had  killed  many  a  warrior  in  its  day.  But  the 
sight  of  it  was  revolting  to  my  imagination.  But  he  had 
paintings  of  favorite  horses  and  hounds,  of  game  and 
hunting  scenes,  and  the  candelabra  of  his  rooms  were 
deer's  antlers,  with  silver  tops  terminating  the  extremities 
to  hold  the  candles.  One  horned  branch  held  thirteen 
sockets,  which  he  called  his  Federal  Chandelier.  He 
took  us  to  one  room  which  was  literally  hung  around 
with  rifles,  old,  long,  and  short,  and  of  all  sizes ;  pistols, 
fowling  pieces,  deer's  antlers,  powder  flasks  and  horns, 
game  bags,  dried  game,  game  in  glass  cases,  and  all  sorts 
of  things  which  I  could  not  imagine  the  use  of,  but 
which  he  gravely  declared  were  all  essential  to  the 
making  up  of  a  good  hunter. 

He  would  take  us  to  his  stables  too,  to  see  his  blind 
war-horse.  We  found  the  venerable  steed  occupying  a 
neat  brick  cottage  opening  into  a  green  paddock  in 
which  he  was  grazing.  As  soon  as  he  heard  his  master's 
voice  he  pricked  up  his  aged  ears  and  came  trotting  along 
till  he  was  within  two  yards,  when  he  stopped  and  felt 
his  way  to  the  gate  with  his  feet.  We  patted  him  and 
spoke  kindly  to  him,  and  he  licked  salt  out  of  my  hand. 
His  teeth  were  all  gone,  and  his  eyes  were  as  white  as 
those  of  a  fish.  How  pitiable  was  the  noble  wreck ! 
He  had  been  through  the  Alabama  and  Florida  wars, 
and  bore  a  scar  on  his  left  shoulder  from  the  blow  of  a 
tomahawk.  His  master  talked  with  him  as  if  he  were  a 
human  being,  and  as  affectionately  as  if  he  were  a  com- 
rade. It  was  a  fine  picture  ;  the  white-headed  soldier 
leaning  upon  and  talking  kindly  with  the  aged  war-horse 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  9f 

■vrho  had  seen  better  days,  but  had  now  grown  old  to- 
gether with  his  master. 

When  we  returned  to  the  house  we  found  all  ready  for 
the  hunt.  Our  horses  were  saddled  and  at  the  door, 
each  held  by  an  African.  We  were  soon  a-saddle,  fol- 
lowed by  four  servants  a-foot,  two  of  whom  led  a  leash 
of  dogs  a-piece.  How  the  hounds'  intelligent  eyes  spoke 
of  anticipated  sport  !  Our  party  consisted  of  our  colo- 
nel, the  old  soldier,  Isabel,  and  myself,  of  the  Saxon 
race ;  of  the  four  negroes,  and  a  fifth,  half  breed,  who 
was  a  sort  of  forest-keeper  to  our  host.  He  was  a  man 
skilled,  the  major  told  us,  in  every  kind  of  wood-craft, 
and  not  to  be  matched  for  a  deer  in  all  Tennessee.  He 
was  mounted  on  a  nag  that  looked  like  a  half  breed, 
having  a  head  like  a  bull  dog,  a  mane  like  a  buffalo,  and 
a  thick  mane  on  each  fetlock.  He  was  shaggy  as  an 
Angola  rug,  black,  and  ugly  in  temper.  Our  elegant, 
aristocratic  jennets  shied  away  from  him  if  he  chanced 
to  trot  near  either  of  them,  with  a  proud  flash  of  their 
eyes  and  a  haughty  whinny  of  their  nostrils. 

We  at  length  reached  a  noble  wood  extending  to  a 
ridge,  from  which  there  was  a  precipitous  path  leading 
to  a  romantic  stream  that  emptied  into  the  Harpeth  which 
conveys  its  waters  to  the  broader  Cumberland.  In  this 
forest  the  deer  usually  feed,  and,  crossing  the  ridge,  de- 
scend the  winding  path  to  the  water  side  to  drink. 

After  getting  through  the  wood,  we  took  up  our  posi- 
tion upon  the  ridge,  between  the  forest  and  the  water. 
There  were  four  deer  paths  leading  across  it,  near  each 
of  which  stood  an  oak  of  enormous  breadth  of  branches, 
with  trunks  like  colossal  columns  of  Thebes.  We  dis- 
mounted on  the  ridge,  and  giving  our  horses  to  the 


98  THE   SUNKY   SOUTH;   OR, 

Africans,  wlio  led  them  away  to  a  distant  eminence,  we 
each  of  us  took  a  position  behind  a  tree.  I  would 
have  preferred  standing  by  the  colonel's  side  at  his  tree, 
but  he  and  the  major  insisted  that  Isabel  and  I  should 
each  have  our  tree,  "so  that,"  said  they,  "the  four 
paths  leading  from  the  forest  to  the  river  might  be  com- 
manded." So  for  the  sake  of  a  military  disposition  of 
their  forces  by  the  two  old  soldiers,  I  had  to  take  post 
behind  one  of  the  huge  oaks.  Next  to  me  was  the  major, 
fifty  feet  off  to  the  south;  and  on  the  north  of  me  was 
Isabel,  with  the  colonel  on  the  north  flank.  For  form's 
sake  we  were  both  armed.  (Isabel  and  I  with  small  bird 
guns,  London  make,  and  exquisitely  ornamented  with 
silver  inlaying.)  These  guns  were  ours, — New  Year's 
presents  from  the  colonel,  who  regularly  gave  us  lessons 
in  the  science  of  shooting,  averring  that  every  American 
lady  ought  to  know  how  to  take  sight  and  pull  a  trigger. 
Now,  when  I  took  the  post  assigned  me,  I  had  no  more 
malice   aforethought   against   any  deer   of  the   forest, 

Mr. ,  than  I  have  against  that  "dear  gazelle"  the 

song  sings  about.  I  was  as  innocent  of  any  intention 
of  firing,  as  a  timid  young  gent  who  has  been  dragged 
into  a  duello  by  his  "friends"  would  be  likely  to  have. 

The  tall  half-breed  had  left  us  some  time  before  we 
reached  the  ridge,  and  turned  off  into  the  depths  of  the 
forest  with  the  dogs,  about  a  dozen  of  them  in  all.  We 
had  hardly  well  taken  our  "stands"  when,  from  the  { 
bosom  of  the  old  wood,  came  to  our  ears  the  low  basso 
baying  of  the  hounds,  sounding  full  a  mile  off. 

"There,  they  wake  them  up,  girls!"  cried  the  major, 
with  eyes  sparkling  with  something  of  their  old  battle 
fire.     "  Stand  firm  and  keep  your  trees  when  they  come. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  M| 

Take  cool  aim  and  pull  trigger  when  you  see  the  color 
of  their  eyes.     They  will  be  up  in  about  five  minutes!" 

The  baying  of  the  hounds  now  grew  nearer  and  louder, 
mingled  at  intervals  with  the  shrill,  human  cry  of  the 
deer  driver.  From  the  colonel  I  understood  that  the 
dogs  had  doubled  round  the  deer  as  they  were  feeding, 
and  were  driving  them  towards  the  ridge,  which  they 
would  soon  fly  across,  to  dash  for  the  river.  Nearer 
and  louder,  and  wilder  was  the  uproar  in  the  forest !  The 
open  mouths  of  a  dozen  dogs,  cheered  on  by  the  half- 
breed,  filled  the  woods  with  a  continuous  roar.  Soon 
were  heard  close  at  hand  the  crashing  of  branches  and 
rustling  of  leaves,  as  the  antlers  of  the  deer  brushed 
them  in  their  mad  escapade.  Then  came  the  quick  pat- 
ter of  hoofs,  and  the  rush  of  the  air  like  the  "noise  of 
many  waters." 

"Look!  see!  they  are  in  sight!"  cried  Isabel,  her 
dark  eyes  sparkling  like  a  spirited  young  knight's,  when 
he  first  sees  his  foe  advancing  against  him,  lance  in 
rest! 

And  they  were  in  sight !  First,  a  noble  stag,  leading 
the  van  of  the  flight ;  then  half  a  dozen  graceful  does ; 
then  two  or  three  smaller  stags ;  then  a  confused  crowd  of 
a  score  of  all  sizes.  With  heads  laid  flat  back  on  their 
shoulders,  they  came  up  the  ridge  side  with  incredible 
swiftness.  As  they  approached  our  stands,  they  divided 
into  four  beaten  paths,  and  came  on  like  a  rolling  sea, 
bearing  a  fleet  of  antlers.  Behind  them,  following  hard 
on  their  flanks,  coursed  the  dogs,  with  their  heads  in 
the  air,  and  their  deep  bay  deafening  the  ear. 

It  was  a  moment  of  intense  excitement.  It  was  like 
a  battle  commencing,  with  the  foe  charging !    I  did  not 


100  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

feel  fear,  but  excitement !  My  pulse  bounded !  My  heart 
leaped  with  heroic  springs !  My  spirit  caught  the  wild 
inspiration  of  the  scene ! 

"Stand  firm!"  eagerly  whispered  the  colonel  to  us,  aa 
they  got  so  near  that  we  could  see  their  brown,  womanly 
looking  eyes. 

"Draw  your  sight  coolly,  girls,"  cried  the  major. 

The  next  moment  they  were  upon  us !  The  leading 
stag  dashed  like  a  race  horse  past  the  oak  where  Isabel 
stood,  four  or  five  following  him  at  top  speed.  But  I 
had  no  time  to  observe  others.  My  eyes  were  bent  with 
a  stern  energy  (my  brow  is  hardly  yet  restored  to  its 
natural  smoothness)  upon  a  phalanx  that  was  rushing  to- 
wards me  like  the  wind.  An  instant,  and  they  passed, 
leaving  a  hurricane  in  the  air  of  their  track  following 
them.  I  shut  my  eyes  involuntarily,  (Crack !  crack ! 
went  rifles  on  each  side  of  me!)  As  I  opened  them 
again,  I  saw  the  last  of  the  party  making  for  my  tree 
like  a  launched  javelin.  (At  this  instant  Isabel's  gun 
was  heard.)  It  was  a  beautiful  doe,  and  as  I  had,  in  the 
bewildering  moment  of  the  exciting  scene,  stepped  a  little 
out,  and  exposed  myself  unconsciously  to  her  attack, 
she  came  leveling  her  frontal  battery  unerringly  to  butt 
me  over.     I  saw  my  danger,  and  was  paralyzed  at  it ! 

"Fire,  or  you  are  killed,"  shouted  the  colonel,  in  a 
tone  of  horror. 

"Fall  down,  and  let  her  bound  oyer  you!"  hallooed 
the  major. 

Instinctively  I  levelled  my  pretty  bird  gun  and  fired. 
I  saw  the  beautiful  animal  leap  into  the  air,  the  red 
blood  pouring  down  its  snow-white  breast,  and  plunge 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  101 

forward  headlong  at  my  feet.  I  sunk,  almost  insensible, 
upon  the  warm  body,  scarcely  hearing  the  dries: 

"Bravo!" 

"Capital  shot!" 

A  shriek  from  Isabel,  who  believed  me  wounded  by  the 
doe's  hoofs,  and  who  flung  herself  by  my  side,  recalled 
me  from  the  momentary  stupor  which  the  mingled  emo- 
tions of  my  danger  and  my  escape,  and  my  horror  at  the 
sight  of  the  bleeding  breast  of  the  deer,  had  produced. 

Judge  my  happiness,  Mr.  ,  when  it  was  found 

that  the  doe  was  not  mortally  wounded.  The  major,  at 
my  entreaty,  said  it  should  be  taken  to  his  house  and 
nursed  for  me  till  it  recovered.  This  was  done,  and  I 
have  the  pleasure  of  assuring  you  that  it  is  rapidly  con- 
valescing, and  it  seems  to  be  grateful  to  me  for  riding 
over  every  day  to  see  how  it  fares. 

The  result  of  the  day's  "sport"  was  two  stags,  three 
does,  and  one  rabbit,  which  Isabel  caught  alive  on  our 
way  home,  after  running  it  down  on  horseback.  She 
also  wounded  a  deer,  which  escaped  from  her. 

Now,  then,  you  have  a  veritable  account  of  my  deer 
hunt.  When  you  make  your  promised  tour  of  the  Union, 
"d  la  President,"  and  come  to  this  garden  of  the  West, 
Tennessee,  we  will  get  up  a  hunt  especially  for  your 
edification,  fox,  deer,  or  rabbit,  as  may  chime  in  with 
your  fancy. 

Tours,  respectfully, 

Kate. 


1,02  THB   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OB, 


LETTER  XIV. 

My  wounded  deer  has  quite  recovered.  You  cannot 
imagine  my  joy  at  this  result.  If  it  had  died,  I  should 
have  carried  the  poor,  affectionate,  mild-eyed  creature's 
death  upon  my  conscience  to  my  last  hour.  It  already 
knows  my  voice,  and  suffered  me  to  lead  it  by  my  saddle- 
horn  yesterday,  from  the  major's  to  the  Park ;  though, 
to  confess  the  truth,  it  came  twice  near  bounding  away 
from  me  when  it  discovered  a  herd  of  deer,  which,  scared 
at  our  approach,  went  scampering  down  the  glades.  But 
a  gentle  word  and  a  pat  upon  the  neck  re-assured  and 
quieted  it.  The  worst  part  of  bringing  it  over  was  to 
keep  two  hounds,  that  always  ride  out  with  Isabel,  from 
tearing  it  in  pieces.  They  could  not  comprehend  the 
mystery  why  man  should  one  day  hunt  deer  down  and 
slay  them,  and  the  next,  pet  and  protect  one.  Brutes 
are  not  very  able  logicians,  and  are  beyond  the  compre- 
hension of  mixed  motives.  No  doubt  a  great  deal  of  the 
conduct  of  their  intelligent  masters  puzzles  them  vastly. 
Brutes  follow  instinct  that  never  deviates  from  a  straight 
line,  while  intelligence  is  unconfined.  Buck  and  Wolf 
could  not  be  reasoned  Avith,  so  I  used  my  whip  smartly; 
and,  thus  seconded,  at  length  got  my  protegde  safely 
housed  at  home.  What  splendid  orbs  the  mild  creature 
has  for  eyes !  Their  expression  is  soft  and  pleading,  with 
a  slight  glitter  of  timidity.     I  have  seen  a  beautiful 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME. 


10$ 


•woman  who  had  just  such  eyes  as  my  deer  has.  To 
keep  my  treasure  from  the  dogs,  I  have  shut  it  up  in  the 
paddock  for  poultry,  which  has  a  high  fence  around  it ; 
I  have  had  to  whip  the  hounds  half  a  score  of  times  to 
teach  them  not  to  stick  their  black  noses  through  the 
palings  and  yelp  at  it,  half  terrifying  it  to  death. 

By  the  way,  talking  of  hounds,  I  was  awakened  this 
morning  at  sunrise  by  a  great  uproar  in  the  kennel,  where 
at  least  twenty  hounds  are  kept.  Every  dog  was  in  full 
howl,  and  such  a  noise!  It  was  not  the  clear,  heart- 
stirring  bay  they  utter  when  they  are  in  chase,  but  a 
melancholy,  cross,  snappish  wailing  and  howling,  as  if 
some  hitherto  unheard  of  tribulation  had  befallen  them 
generally  and  individually.  The  whole  house  was  roused. 
The  colonel  first  reached  the  scene  of  the  canine  tur- 
moil, and,  upon  inquiring,  ascertained  from  a  black  wo- 
man, that  they  were  "mad  because  she  baked  their  corn- 
bread  for  dem." 

It  appeared  that  old,  purblind  mam'  Daphny,  who 
does  nothing  but  cook  for  the  hounds,  was  sick  in  bed 
"with  the  rheumatics,"  and  delegated  her  duties  to 
another  for  the  day.  The  hounds,  whose  alimentary 
tastes,  as  well  as  olfactory  nerves,  are  keenly  sensitive, 
had  detected  the  new  and  less  skillful  hand  "  at  the  bel- 
lows," and  so  bellowed  forth,  in  the  fashion  I  have 
described,  their  grief  and  rage  at  this  innovation  upon 
established  usages.  They  left  the  corn-bread  untouched, 
and  would  not  eat  until  old  aunt  Daphny — good-hearted 
Congoese — crawled  out  of  bed,  and  made  up  a  "  batch" 
which  was  no  sooner  placed  before  the  epicurean  quad- 
rupeds, than  they  devoured  it  greedily.     It  takes  as  much 


104  THE  SUA'NY  south;  or, 

good  bread  to  keep  these  hounds  as  it  does  a  dozen  ne- 
groes.    They,  the  dogs,  are  dainty  wretches. 

I  was  witness,  yesterday  afternoon,  to  a  scene  that 
afforded  me  infinite  amusement.  The  negroes  had  pre- 
sents all  round  at  Christmas  and  Newyear's ;  but,  on 
Washington's  birth-day,  old  George,  a  favorite  and  vene- 
rable slave,  whose  father  once  belonged  to  Washington, 
argued  that  he  ought  to  have  a  special  present !  The 
colonel  therefore  sent  into  Nashville  and  bought  him  a 
new  violin.  A  more  acceptable  gift  could  hardly  have 
been  made  to  him,  as  he  has  a  fine  ear  for  music,  and  is 
the  Orpheus  and  "Ole  Bull"  of  the  plantation.  It  has 
been  his  custom  of  evenings,  after  the  day's  work  is  over, 
to  seat  himself  upon  a  bench  beneath  a  large  elm  that 
grows  in  the  centre  of  the  African  village  or  Quartier. 
Here,  at  the  sound  of  his  fiddle,  would  gather  the  whole 
ebon  population  to  dance.  At  such  times  he  gives  re- 
gular lessons  to  the  young  negroes  in  dancing  to  the 
banjo,  and  teaches  their  juvenile  voices  the  classic  airs 
of  Mondango  and  Guinea ;  hereditary  tunes,  that  have 
been  brought  from  Africa,  and  which  are  now  spread  over 
the  land  to  such  words  as  "Juliana  Johnson,  don't  you 
cry,"  "  Old  Dan  Tucker,"  "Long  Time  Ago,"  &c. 

We  had  just  risen  from  the  tea-table,  last  evening, 
when  old  George  made  his  appearance  at  the  steps  of 
the  gallery,  and,  baring  his  bald  head,  he  bowed  with  a 
politeness  that  Lord  Chesterfield  would  have  envied,  and 
made  us  this  speech : 

"Young  Missises  and  Massa  colonel;  old  George 
take  de  liberty  to  'vite  you  to  come  to  de  dance  out 
door  by  de   ol'  elm.     Massa  hab  giv'  me  new  fiddle, 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  105 

and  I  takes  pleasure  to  giv'  de  white  folks  a  consart,  and 
show  de  young  ladieses  how  my  scholars  dance." 

We  accepted  George's  polite  invitation,  and  as  the 
moon  was  full  we  went  over  to  the  village.  We  were 
guided  to  the  tree  by  the  bright  light  shed  from  half  a 
dozen  pine  torches,  held  in  the  hands  of  as  many  Afri- 
can animated  statues,  whom  George  had  conspicuously 
stationed  to  throw  light  upon  the  scene. 

As  I  approached  the  spot,  I  was  struck  with  its  no- 
velty, for  I  have  not  yet  been  long  enough  here  to  be- 
come familiar  with  all  plantation  customs.  I  have  told 
you  that  the  negro  village  of  the  estate  is  picturesquely 
disposed  on  the  borders  of  a  pretty  mere^  a  few  hundred 
yards  from  the  house.  We  crossed  the  water,  by  a 
wicker  bridge,  and  had  most  of  the  dwellings  of  the 
slaves  in  full  view,  occupying  two  streets  and  three  sides 
of  a  square.  The  lights  of  pine-wood  flung  a  red  and 
wild  glare  upon  their  fronts,  and  upon  the  lake,  and 
upon  a  group  of  more  than  a  hundred  Africans  of  both 
sexes,  who  were  assembled  about  the  tree.  It  revealed, 
also,  here  and  there  an  old  man  or  woman,  helpless 
through  age,  seated  in  their  hut-doors,  in  order  to  enjoy 
as  much  of  what  was  going  on  as  they  could. 

We  already  found  the  dignified  George  seated  upon 
his  bench,  fiddle  in  hand.  On  his  right  stood  a  short, 
fat  negro,  holding  a  banjo,  and  on  his  left  was  another 
slave,  with  eyes  like  the  bottoms  of  China  cups,  holding 
two  hollow  sticks  in  his  hand.  Behind  George  was  a 
toothless  negress,  having  before  her  a  section  of  a  hol- 
low tree,  shaped  like  a  drum,  with  a  dried  deer-skin 
drawn  tightly  over  it ;  in  her  shining  fist  she  grasped  a 
sort  of  mallet.    Chairs,  assiduously  provided,  were  placed 


lOl  THE    SUNNY    SOUTH;    OK, 

for  US,  and  the  buzzing  of  pleasure,  occasioned  among 
the  numerous  company  of  Ham's  posterity,  having  sub- 
sided, at  a  majestic  wave  of  George's  fiddle-bow,  the 
concert  began !  The  first  tune  was  a  solo,  and  new  to 
me,  and  so  beautiful  and  simple  that  I  made  old  George 
play  it  for  me  to-day  in  the  house,  and  I  copied  the 
music  as  he  did  so.  He  says  his  father  taught  it  to  him. 
Certainly  the  negroes  have  striking  native  airs,  charac- 
terized by  delightful  surprises  and  touching  simplicity. 
Their  chief  peculiarity  is  cheerfulness. 
^  George  having  first  played  a  soft  strain,  the  banjo 
struck  in  a  second ;  then  came  the  hollow  sticks,  like  cas- 
tanets, but  five  times  as  large,  hollow,  and  more  musical ; 
and,  lastly,  the  old  negress  thumped  in  a  base  on  her 
hollow  drum.  The  perfect  time,  the  sweet  harmony,  the 
novelty  of  the  strange  sounds,  the  singular  combination 
enchanted  me.  I  must  confess  that  I  never  heard  true 
music  before ;  but  then  I  should  acknowledge  I  have  not 
heard  any  operatic  music  in  an  opera-house.  But  do 
not  smile  if  I  say  that  I  believe  George  and  his  three 
aiders  and  abettors  would  be  listened  to  with  pleasur- 
able surprise,  if  they  should  play  as  I  heard  them  play, 
by  a  Walnut  street  audience.  Real  African  concert- 
singers  are  not,  however,  in  fashion.  White  men  blacked 
are  only  comme  ilfaut.  Is  it  not  odd  that  a  city  audi- 
ence will  listen  to  imitation  negroes,  and  yet  despise  a 
concerto  composed  of  the  Simon  pures?  After  George 
had  played  several  pieces,  one  of  which  was  "Lucy 
Long,"  as  I  had  never  heard  it  before,  and  had  received 
our  praises,  he  said,  always  speaking  with  the  dignity 
of  an  oracle : 

"Now,  if  massa  and  de  young  ladieses  please,  we 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  107 

hab  de  small-fry  show  demselve  !  Come,  tand  out  here, 
you  litty  niggers  !  Show  de  white  folk  how  you  dance 
de  corn  dance !" 

Thereupon  a  score  of  little  darkies,  from  five  years 
of  age  to  a  dozen  years,  girls  and  boys  together,  sprang 
from  the  crowd,  and  placed  themselves  in  the  space  in 
front  of  us.  Half  of  them  were  demi-clad,  those  that 
had  shirts  not  being  troubled  with  any  superfluous  ap- 
parel, and  those  that  had  trousers  being  shirtless ;  in  a 
word,  not  a  black  skin  was  covered  with  but  one  species 
of  garment,  and  this  was  generally  a  very  short  and  very 
dirty,  coarse  eamisa. 

"  Now  make  de  dirt  fly !"  shouted  George,  as  he  struck 
up  a  brisk  air  alone — banjo,  hollow  sticks,  and  drum  be- 
ing silent. 

The  younglings  obeyed  the  command  to  the  letter. 
They  danced  like  mad !  The  short-skirt  flaps  flew  up 
and  down,  the  black  legs  were  as  thickly  mixed  up  as 
those  of  a  centipede  waltzing ;  woolly  heads,  white  eyes, 
glittering  teeth,  yells  and  whoops,  yah-yahs,  and  wou- 
wous,  all  united,  created  a  scene  that  my  shocked  pen 
refuses  to  describe.  The  little  negroes  did  full  credit  to 
old  George's  skill,  and  he  evidently^felt  it.  He  sawed 
away  desperately  till  the  sweat  rained  from  his  furrowed 
brow.  He  writhed,  and  rose,  and  bent  over,  and  stood 
up,  and  did  every  thing  but  lie  down,  playing  all  the 
while  without  cessation,  and  in  a  sort  of  rapturous  ecs- 
tasy. Banjo  caught  the  inspiration,  and  hollow  sticks 
started  after,  while  drum  pounded  away  like  young  thun- 
der, yelling  a  chant  all  the  while,  that,  had  her  grand- 
mother sung  it  to  Mungo  Park,  would  have  driven  him 
from  the  shelter  of  her  hut  to  the  less  horrible  howls 


10$  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

of  the  desert.  The  little  Africans  danced  harder  and 
harder.  Their  parents  caught  the  spirit  of  the  moment, 
and  this  one,  dashing  his  old  cap  down,  sprang  into  the 
arena,  and  that  one,  uttering  a  whoop,  followed,  till  full 
fifty  were  engaged  at  once.  I  never  enjoyed  any  thing 
so  much !  I  could  fancy  myself  witnessing  some  hea- 
then incantation  dance  in  the  groves  of  Africa !  The 
moonlight  shining  through  the  trees,  the  red  glare  of  the 
torches  upon  them,  their  wild  movements,  their  strange 
and  not  unmusical  cries,  as  they  kept  time  with  their 
voices  to  their  quick  tramping  feet,  their  dark  forms, 
their  contortions,  and  perfect  abandon,  constituted  a 
tout  ensemble  that  must  he  witnessed  to  he  appreciated. 

Suddenly,  in  the  height  of  their  diversion,  the  planta- 
tion bell  began  to  strike  eight  o'clock.  When  the  first 
stroke  was  heard  from  the  turret  of  the  overseer's  house, 
there  was  a  burst  of  mingled  surprise  and  regret.  They 
shouted  to  each  other  to  "do  their  best;"  and  between 
the   first   and    eighth    stroke,    take    my   word   for    it, 

Mr. ,  more    dancing   was    done,    and   harder,    and 

faster,  and  noisier,  than  was  over  done  before  in  so  small 
a  limitation  of  time.  It  seemed  they  were  all  determined 
to  heap  as  much  pleasure  into  this  fleeting  space  as  it 
could  contain.  With  the  last  stroke,  every  man,  woman, 
and  youngling,  uttered  a  yell,  gave  a  final  leap  into  the 
air,  and  with  the  dying  vibration  of  the  bell's  sound,  all 
was  quiet.  George  even  was  arrested  with  his  bow  in 
the  air,  in  an  attitude  of  expiring  delight,  as  if 

"Dying  of  a  tune  in  Orpheanio  pain," 

"Good  night,  boys,"  said  the  colonel,  in  the  cordial 
frank  way  he  has  when  he  speaks  to  his  people;  "you 


THE  souther:s^er  at  home.  109 

hare  enjoyed  yourselves,  and  so  have  we.     George,  your 
pupils,  young  and  old,  do  you  credit." 

"  Tankee,  Massa  Colonel ;  I  know'd  you'd  be  berry  much 
gratify.     I  hope  de  young  ladieses  is  ekally  charmed." 

"We  are  charmed,  George,"  I  answered;  at  which  he 
made  me  a  superb  bow,  when  we  took  our  departure. 
The  slaves  also  retired  each  to  his  own  cabin,  the  torches 
were  extinguished,  and  before  we  reached  the  house, 
stillness  reigned  in  the  green  moonlit  square  of  the  Afri- 
can quarter. 

"Now  let  us  have  some  of  your  music,  Bel,"  said  her 
father,  as  we  entered  the  dining-room,  which  was  richly 
lighted  with  a  solar  sphere  of  ground  glass.  As  my 
eyes  fell  upon  the  superb  furniture,  the  gorgeous  carpet, 
the  luxurious  drapery  of  the  windows,  and  the  golden 
harp  and  rosewood  piano,  and  the  peerless  beauty  of  the 
young  girl  seated  at  the  costly  instrument,  I  could  not 
help  contrasting  the  refined  character  of  the  whole  en- 
semble with  that  we  had  just  borne  a  part  in.  It  ap- 
peared like  a  transition  from  one  world  to  another! 
Isabel's  voice  is  surpassingly  rich  in  compass  and  sweet- 
ness. She  sings  much  like  Biscaccianti,  and  warbles  in 
her  throat  in  the  same  dulcet,  dove-like  manner.  She 
can  soar  too,  to  the  same  lark-like  notes,  taking  the  soul 
far  up  on  the  wing  of  her  song,  to  the  very  skies,  till  it 
melts  into  heaven.  Don't  think  me  extravagant,  but 
music  ever  needs  adequate  language  to  describe  its  effects. 
Types,  transpose  them  into  any  shape  of  words,  fail  to 
express  the  impression  music  makes  upon  the  soul. 

While  I  was  looking  at  the  African  dance,  and  listened 
to  their  voices,  which  went  to  the  tune  of  the  dance  in  a 
continuous  chant,  I  was  led  to  the  reflection  that  the 


110  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

dance,  even  in  our  assemblies,  is  a  barbaric  relic,  and 
that  civilization  in  retaining,  has  only  rejected  the  vocal 
feature  which  characterizes  it  among  all  barbarous  peo- 
ple. We  dance  mutely;  Indians  and  Africans  singingly. 
Who  shall  judge  between  us  ? 

Since  I  wrote  the  above,  I  have  seen  the  gentleman 
who  rode  the  bull  six  miles  on  a  steeple  chase,  half 
across  the  country !  He  called  to  see  the  colonel  on  some 
business,  and  was  presented  to  us.  He  is  a  young  man, 
resolute,  and  rather  dissipated  looking ;  and  I  discerned 
the  butt  of  a  small  pistol  sticking  out  of  his  pocket,  which 
did  not  prepossess  me  favorably,  for  it  strikes  me  that 
a  brave  man  will  not  go  armed  day-by-day.  Carrying 
weapons  is  a  sign  either  of  a  quarrelsome  temper,  or  a 
cowardly  heart !  After  our  visitor  left,  the  colonel  told  us 
that  three  years  ago  he  laid  a  wager  that  he  would  ride  a 
famous  fierce  bull  twice  around  a  pasture.  The  bet  was 
taken,  and  the  young  man  managed  to  get  astride  the 
bull  with  only  a  stout  whip  in  his  hand.  The  bull,  as 
might  be  expected,  at  being  thus  taken  "a-back," 
plunged,  roared,  pawed,  and  set  off  at  full  speed.  At 
the  first  dash  he  broke  through  the  fence,  and  laid  his 
mad  course  straight  across  the  country.  The  young 
man,  putting  his  whip  in  his  teeth,  and  grasping  a  horn 
in  each  hand,  held  on  for  his  life.  Unable  to  guide  the 
enraged  brute,  unable  to  check  him,  and  fearing  to  throw 
himself  off,  he  committed  himself  to  the  creature's  will, 
which  led  him  two  leagues  to  the  Cumberland,  into  which, 
sans  peur,  the  bull  plunged  headlong,  and  so  gave  his 
involuntary  rider  liberty.  It  is  needless  to  say  he  won 
"the  stakes." 

Can  you  tell  me,  Mr. ,  if  General  Morris  has 


THE    SU]!fNY   SOUTH;    OR,  111 

lately  published  any  new  pieces  ?  Next  to  Tom  Moore's, 
his  songs  are  admired  in  the  West.  If  the  gallant  gene- 
ral should  come  out  here,  he  would  have  a  pretty  fair 
notion  of  what  post  mortem  fame  is ;  for  the  appreciation 
which  an  author  receives  in  a  strange  land,  as  I  have 
said,  is  equal  to  the  voice  of  posterity. 

Respectfully, 

Kate. 


112  THE   SUNNY  SOUTH;   OR, 


LETTER   XV. 
My  dear  Mr. 


Ci 


^  CAN  convey  to  you  no  adequate  idea  of  the  pic- 
turesque character  of  the  scenery  of  this  estate.  It  is 
made  up  of  groves,  uplands,  cliffs,  grotto-like  springs, 
level,  green  meadows,  and  undulating  fields.  In  what- 
soever direction  we  ride  or  walk,  there  are  interesting 
features  to  please  the  eye.  Our  drives  from  the  villa 
are  all  charming.  Eleven  miles  in  one  direction,  east- 
ward, we  come  to  the  venerated  tomh  of  Jackson,  at  the 
Hermitage;  in  another  we  find  ourselves,  after  three 
hours'  ride,  in  the  beautiful  and  wealthy  city  of  Nashville. 
A  longer  ride,  south,  brings  us  to  the  handsome  village 
of  Columbia,  where  President  Polk  was  born  and  lived, 
and  where  is  one  of  the  most  eminent  collegiate  institu- 
tions for  females  in  the  United  States;  and  beyond,  an 
hour's  ride  farther,  lies  Ashwood,  the  princely  domain 
of  the  four  brothers  Polk,  Avhose  estates  extend  for  miles, 
in  continuous  and  English  like  cultivation.  Of  this  lovely 
region  I  shall  write  you  by  and  by.  A  shaded  road, 
leading  four  miles  north  of  us,  terminates  on  the  pebbly 
shore  of  the  romantic  Cumberland,  where,  as  we  sit  upon 
our  horses,  we  can  watch  the  steamers  pass,  and  the  keel 
boats  and  huge  barges  floating  down  with  the  current. 
Here,  too,  we  sometimes  catch  fish,  and  have  a  rare  pic- 
nic time  of  it/) 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  113 

Be  sure  of  it,  Mr. ,  you  never  will  have  enjoyed 

life  till  you  come  to  our  Park.  If  I  dared  tell  the  colonel 
■what  I  was  doing,  he  would  heartily  invite  you  through 
me;  but  I  would  not  let  him  know  for  the  world  that  I 
am  "takin'  notes  an'  printin'  'em,"  so  pray  don't  send 
your  paper  to  him.  He  doesn't  read  much,  save  politics, 
or  I  should  tremble  lest,  when  he  rides  to  the  city,  he 
should  fall  in  with  my  "Needles."  But,  then,  I  have 
not  said  any  thing  in  them  very  naughty,  have  I,  Mr. 

■  ?     I  am  sure  all  is  love  and  kindness  that  I  write  ; 

at  least,  I  see  them  in  my  inkstand  when  I  dip  my  pen 
therein. 

My  deer  follows  me  like  a  greyhound.  It  has  a  heart 
that  holds  gratitude  as  a  full  cup  holds  rich  wine.  When 
I  look  into  its  intelligent  eyes  I  seem  to  be  looking  down 
into  a  pair  of  deep,  shadowy  wells,  at  the  bottom  of  which 
I  see  visible  the  star  of  its  spirit.  It  seems  to  have 
almost  a  human  soul !  It  loves,  and  is  grateful,  and  is 
dependent  like  a  woman !  Nothing  pleases  it  so  much 
as  to  have  me  talk  to  it.  It  listens,  moves  its  graceful 
ears,  and  smiles  out  of  its  eyes,  its  calm  joy!  "What," 
asks  Emerson,  "what  is  a  brute?"  Who  can  answer? 
What  a  mystery  they  are ! 

By  the  way,  I  nearly  lost  my  life  defending  my  pet 
yesterday.  I  had  walked  down  to  a  spring  that  gushes 
out  of  a  cavernous  rock  in  a  lovely  green  glen,  a  short 
distance  from  the  house.  My  deer  followed  me.  As  I 
sat  by  the  spring  and  read  "Willis's  People  I  have  Seen," 
— a  very  readable  book,  by-the-bye,  my  deer  ambled  off 
to  a  little  emerald  knob,  and  began  to  browse.  It  was 
a  quiet  scene,  and  the  idea  of  danger  never  entered  either 
of  our  foolish  heads.     All  at  once  I  heard  a  wolf-like 


114  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

bay  from  a  deep  throat ;  then  a  swift  rushing  of  a  blood- 
hound so  closely  past  me,  that  I  felt  the  warm  breath 
of  the  animal  upon  my  face.  The  next  moment  he  was 
within  a  bound  of  my  deer !  With  a  cry  of  warning, 
I  thoughtlessly  hastened  to  the  rescue  of  the  deer,  ,_ich 
no  sooner  saw  its  danger  than  it  sprang  into  the  air, 
completely  over  the  dog,  as  he  crouched  couchant  to 
pounce  upon  him,  and  flew  to  me.  The  bloodhound 
doubled  and  came  back  after  him.  The  deer  stopped 
and  stood  trembling  at  my  side.  I  threw  myself  for- 
ward, and  endeavored  to  intimidate  the  red  eyed  monster 
by  shaking  Willis  at  him !  But,  I  know  not  from  what 
influence,  he  turned  aside  from  me  and  leaped  upon  the 
animal's  shoulder.  The  helpless  deer  sunk  upon  its 
knees,  uttering  a  piteous  cry.  At  this  my  courage  was 
roused,  and  grasping  like  a  stiletto  the  steel  inlaid  paper- 
cutter  I  had  been  using,  I  was  in  the  act  of  driving  it 
into  the  fiery  eye  of  the  savage  brute,  when  a  loud  voice 
caused  the  dog  to  release  his  hold,  and  me  to  suspend  the 
blow.  With  a  growl  like  a  bear  robbed  of  his  prey,  the 
bloodhound  slunk  away,  evidently  fearing  to  encounter 
the  owner  of  the  voice,  who  proved  to  be  the  overseer. 

"You  had  an  escape,  miss,"  said  the  man,  politely 
raising  his  broad  black  hat.  "  I  did  not  know  any  one 
was  in  this  field,  or  I  should  have  kept  him  close  by  me. 
It  was  the  deer  he  was  after.  I  hope  you  were  not 
hur.  " 

"Only  frightened  for  my  poor  deer,"  I  answered. 
"Her  shoulf'  'r> bleeds,  sir." 

"It  is  only  a  tooth  mark  through  the  skin.  Let  me 
see  that  dirk,  if  you  please.     If  you  had  stuck  him  with 


THE   SOUTHERNEK   AT   HOME.  115 

that  in  the  eye  you  would  have  killed  him  outright.  It 
is  a  little,  but  sure  weapon." 

"It  is  a  paper-cutter,  sir,"  I  said,  mortified  to  think 
he  should  suppose  I  carried  a  dirk. 

■^  ib  is  as  good  a  cutter  as  a  knife.  I  am  glad  you  did 
not  strike  the  dog.  He  is  worth  a  round  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars,  and  he  is  the  only  one  we  have.  They  will 
track  a  footstep  for  miles,"  he  added ;  "  and  the  negroes 
fear  them  so,  that  one  on  a  plantation  is  enough  to  keep 
them  from  running  away.  I  keep  this  ugly  fellow  more 
as  a  preventive  than  really  to  hunt  them.  Come,  Tiger," 
he  said,  calling  the  dog ;  and  in  a  few  moments  I  was 
left  alone  with  my  wounded  deer.  It  was  not,  fortun- 
ately, badly  hurt,  and  in  an  hour  was  as  lively  as  ever. 

On  my  way  home,  I  called  at  a  neat  hut,  built  under 
a  shady  catalpa  tree.  A  clean,  broad  stone  was  the  door- 
step ;  white  half-curtains  were  visible  at  the  small  windows, 
and  an  air  of  neatness  pervaded  the  whole.  Before  it 
was  a  small  yard,  in  which  grew  two  "  Pride  of  China" 
trees,  for  shade,  and  a  cabbage  and  gourd  plat  were  on 
either  side  of  the  doorway.  In  the  door  sat  old  Aunt 
Phillisy,  a  negress  withered  to  parchment  by  extreme 
age. 

She  says  she  is  over  a  hundred  years  old,  of  which  I 
have  no  doubt.  She  is  African  born,  and  still  retains 
many  words  of  her  native  dialect,  with  a  strange  gibber- 
ish of  broken  English.  She  was  smoking  a  pipe,'-  Made 
of  corn-cob,  and  rocking  her  body  to  and  fro  in  the  sun- 
shine, in  pure  animal  enjoyment.  Hoi  husband,  old 
Daddy  Cusha,  who  was  nearly  as  old  as  his  wife,  was 
seated  on  a  low  stool  in  the  room,  but  where  the  sun 
fell  upon  him.     He  was  the  most  venerable  object  I  ever 


116  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

beheld,  in  his  way.  He  was  stone  blind,  his  head  bald, 
and  shining  like  burnished  copper,  and  his  beard  white 
as  fleeces  of  wool.  His  hands  were  folded  upon  his 
knees,  and  he  seemed  to  be  in  silent  communion  with  the 
depths  of  his  own  spirit.  These  two  persons  had  not 
labored  for  years,  and  their  master  was  providing  for 
them  in  their  old  age.  On  every  plantation  you  will  find 
one  or  more  old  couples  thus  passing  their  declining 
years,  in  calm  repose,  after  the  toils  of  life,  awaiting 
their  transfer  to  another  state  of  being.  The  care  taken 
of  the  aged  servants  in  this  country  is  honorable  both  to 
master  and  slave. 

I  had  often  seen  Mammy  Phillisy  and  old  Daddy  Cusha 
— as  Isabel,  who  was  attached  to  them,  almost  every 
day  brings  them,  with  her  own  hand,  "  something  nice" 
from  the  table.  The  first  day  I  took  dinner  at  the  Park, 
I  noticed  this  noble  girl  setting  aside  several  dainties,  and 
directing  the  servant  in  attendance,  in  a  whisper,  to  place 
them  on  a  side  table ;  and  I  was  led  from  it  to  believe 
some  person,  some  very  dear  friend  in  the  house,  was  an 
invalid.  But  I  soon  found  that  they  were  for  Aunt  Phillisy, 
Aunt  Daphny,  and  Father  Jack,  and  other  venerable 
Africans  of  the  estate,  whose  age  and  helplessness  were 
thus  tenderly  regarded  by  the  children  of  the  master 
they  had  once  faithfully  served. 

"Good  morning,  Aunt  Phillisy,"  I  said. 

"Eh,  goo'  mornee,  Mishy  Katawinee,"  answered  the 
old  slave,  with  a  brightening  expression,  "howee  do, 
Mishy  ?" 

"  Very  well.  Aunt  Phillisy,"  replied  I,  "Ihope  you  and 
old  Cusha  are  doing  well." 

"  Yeesha,   Mishy,    we  welly  wellee.      Takee   seatee, 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  117 

Mishy,"  she  said,  rising  and  handing  me  a  wicker  chair. 
So  I  sat  down  and  had  a  long  chat  with  them.  Old 
Cusha  could  recollect  when  he  was  taken  prisoner  in 
Africa.  He  said  his  people  and  another  tribe  fought 
together,  that  his  tribe  was  beaten,  and  he,  and  his  mo- 
ther, and  brothers,  and  sisters  were  all  taken  by  "  de 
oder  brackee  men  for  gold  backshee ;  den  dey  put  me 
board  de  leety  ship,"  continued  Cusha,  "and,  by'm  by, 
we  come  to  land,  and  dey  sellee  me  in  Wirginny.  Oh, 
it  long  time  'go,  Missee!" 

Aunt  Phillisy's  memory  traveled  no  farther  back  than 
"  the  big  blue  sea."  Her  life  in  a  slaver  seemed  to  have 
made  such  an  indelible  impression  upon  her  that  it  had 
become  the  era  of  her  memory.  Before  it,  she  remem- 
bered nothing.  Her  face,  breast,  and  arms  were  tattooed 
with  scars  of  gashes,  as  were  those  also  of  her  husband. 
While  I  was  talking  with  them,  one  of  their  great-grand- 
children came  into  the  cabin.  It  was  as  black,  as  thick 
of  lip,  as  white  of  eye,  as  long  of  heel,  as  thick  of  skull, 
as  its  genuine  Afric  forebears ;  which  proved  to  me  that 
the  African  loses  none  of  his  primal  characteristics  by 
change  of  climate  and  circumstances,  nor  by  the  progress 
of  generations.  The  reflection  was  then  forced  upon  my , 
mind  that  these  familiar  looking  negroes,  which  we  see 
every  day  about  us,  are  indelibly  foreigners  I  Yet  what 
Southerner  looks  upon  his  slave  as  a  barbarian,  from  a 
strange,  barbarous  land,  domesticated  in  his  own  house, 
his  attendant  at  table,  the  nurse  of  his  children  ?  Yet 
no  alien  in  America  is  so  much  a  foreigner  as  the  ne- 
gro! 

QWhat  a  race  they  are  !     How  naturally  they  fall  into 
the  dependence  of  bondage  !     How  familiarly  they  dwell 


118  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH ;   OR,  «  . 

in  Southern  households  !  How  intimately  they  are  asso- 
ciated with  the  inmates  !  How  necessary  to  the  happi- 
ness and  comfort  of  the  beautiful  daughter  or  aristocratic 
lady  of  the  planter,  is  the  constant  presence  of  an  Afri- 
caness,  black,  thick-lipped,  and  speaking  broken  English, 
— a  black  daughter  of  Kedar — whose  grandmother  may 
have  danced  the  Fetish  by  the  fires  of  human  bones,  and 
whose  father  sacrificed  to  idols  more  hideous  than  them- 
selves !  How  little,  I  say,  does  the  Southerner  realize 
who  and  what  the  negro  is !  Yet  these  descendants  of 
barbarians  and  wild  Afric  tribes  are  docile,  gentle,  affec- 
tionate, grateful,  submissive,  and  faithful !  In  a  word, 
they  possess  every  quality  that  should  constitute  a  good 
servant.  No  race  of  the  earth  makes  such  excellent  do- 
mestics. It  is  not  in  training  !  They  seem  to  be  born 
.■i*  to  it  p  Look  at  the  American  Indian,  and  contrast  him 
with  the  African. 

In  the  early  history  of  the  United  States,  many  of 
these  were  forced  into  bondage,  but  soon  pined  and  died ! 
In  the  West  Indies  the  Spaniards  would  have  made  the 
native  Indians  slaves,  and  did  compel  them  to  toil,  but 
in  what  island  of  the  West  Indies  are  now  to  be  found 
any  of  their  descendants  in  bondage  ?  Perished  all ! 
The  proud  spirit  of  the  Indian  will  not  brook  vassalage. 
His  will  bends  not,  but  breaks !  A  few  months'  subjec- 
tion to  imprisonment  broke  the  great  heart  of  Osceola ! 
Oh,  when  I  think  on  the  base  act  of  treachery  (and  by 
an  American  officer,  too)  by  which  that  gallant  and 
chivalrous  chief  was  inveigled  into  the  hands  of  the 
Americans,  my  pulse  throbs  quicker,  and  I  feel  my 
cheek  warm !  It  is  the  darkest  act  that  stains  Ame- 
rican history  !     And  our  government  connived  at  it ! 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  110 

Our  government,  which,  next  to  God's,  should  be  su- 
preme in  greatness  and  glory,  justice  and  mercy,  over 
the  earth,  our  government  availed  itself  of  the  treachery, 
and  so  made  it  its  own  !  Shame  on  the  American  arms  ! 
Infamy  on  the  name  of  an  officer,  who,  under  a  flag  of 
truce,  could  thus  violate  every  principle  of  honor ! 

There  is  just  now  a  good  deal  of  talk  about  the  disso-** 
lution  of  the  Union.*  We  ladies  even  engage  in  the 
discussion,  and,  if  not  with  ability,  at  least  with  warmth 
and  patriotism.  With  but  one  exception,  I  am  glad  to 
find  all  the  Tennessee  ladies  I  have  met  are  firm  union- 
ists. This  lady  said  she  hoped  to  see  the  "  North  cast^  * 
off,"  Nashville  the  capital  of  a  new  republic  or  kingdom, 
when  Charleston  would  rival  New  York,  and  New  Or- 
leans would  be  the  Constantinople  of  the  world !  How 
my  heart  pitied  her  !  Dissolve  the  Union  !  It  is  to  ex- 
patriate ourselves.  It  is  to  blot  the  name  of  America 
from  the  scroll  of  nations.  I  have  no  patience  with 
such  talkers.  They  know  not  what  they  say.  What  a 
speech  Mr.  Clay  has  given  the  nation !  Last  and  migh- 
tiest effort  of  all.  As  he  advances  in  years,  his  intellect 
seems  to  catch  glory  from  the  splendor  of  the  world  to 
which  he  is  near  approaching !  His  speech  will  be  re- 
membered through  all  time. 

Why  should  such  a  man  as  Mr.  Clay  or  Mr.  Webster 
wish  to  be  President?  This  position  can  add  no  new 
lustre  to  their  names.  As  Presidents  they  would  be 
lost  in  the  long  list  of  Presidents  that  is  to  be  unrolled 
along  the  tide  of  time ;  but  simply  as  American  Sena- 
tors, (titles,  than  which  none  are  more  dignified  on 
earth,)  they  will  descend  to  posterity  as  the  Cicero  and 
*  Written  in  1852. 


120  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

Demosthenes  of  the  early  ages  of  the  republic.  I  would 
say  to  them,  "  Senators,  if  you  wish  to  be  great  for  all 
time,  lie  down  in  your  sepulchres  with  the  senatorial 
mantle  folded  upon  your  breasts." 

You  must  pardon  my  bit  of  politics,  Mr. ,  but 

the  Tennessee  ladies  are  all  politicians,  I  believe  the  most 
zealous  to  be  found  anywhere,  and  I  have  caught  their 
spirit.  It  strikes  me  that  every  true  American  woman 
should  understand  the  affairs  of  government,  political 
motives,  great  men,  and  exciting  questions  of  public  in- 
terest. So  did  the  Roman  matrons,  and,  doubtless,  the 
Roman  maidens. 

But,  my  paper  tells  me  I  must  close. 

Respectfully  yours, 

Kate. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  121 


LETTER   XVI. 


Dear  Mr. : 

I  HAVE  just  finished  reading  Emerson's  great  book, 
"Nature."  What  a  well  of  thought  it  is!  What  a 
wonderful  man  he  is  to  write  such  wonderful  things ! 
He  is  a  metaphysical  anatomist.  He  lays  open  the  uni- 
verse to  the  soul's  eye.  He  is  one  of  those  few  writers 
that  put  in  words  for  us,  our  own  unspoken  thoughts, 
those  great  thoughts  that  come  upon  us  in  the  waking 
hours  of  night,  and  in  the  still,  holy  hour  of  twilight. 
How  many  thoughts  that  I  never  dreamt  of  uttering, 
not  dreaming  they  could  be  written  in  words,  have  I 
been  startled  and  pleased  to  find  in  this  book !  He 
seems  to  comprehend  the  mystery  of  life,  and  teach  us 
what  and  for  what  we  are.  The  questions  which  a  child 
asks,  and  which  puzzle  a  philosopher  to  answer,  this 
philosopher  answers  with  the  simplicity  of  a  child.  He 
delights  us,  because  we  feel  that  he  has  felt,  and  thought, 
and  wondered,  as  we  have  felt,  and  thought,  and  won- 
dered !  His  book  must  make  its  way  to  the  hearts  of 
all  who  think  ;  of  all  who  look  at  the  stars,  and  ponder 
with  awe  and  solemn  curiosity  thereupon;  of  all  who 
look  downward  into  their  own  spirits,  and  meditate  upon 
the  mystery  they  are  ! 

Mr.  Emerson  calls  the  visible  universe  the  scoria  of 
spirit!     He  says,  that  all  spirit  has  a  tendency  to  visi- 


122  THE   SUNNY  SOUTH;   OR, 

bility — hence  result  the  visible  world,  the  heavens,  and 
the  earth.  A  visible  creature  is  the  ultimatum  of  spirit. 
The  physical  powers  of  Deity  are  visible  in  the  grandeur 
of  creation — the  moral  were  made  visible  in  the  person 
of  Jesus  Christ,  who  was  the  "Godhead  visible."  These 
are  wonderful  sayings  to  think  upon.  They  help  vastly 
towards  unfolding  the  mighty  thoughts  that  rush  upon  the 
soul  at  times.  Mr.  Emerson's  must  delight  all  right 
minds.  The  whole  scope  of  his  Christian  philosophy, 
hoAvever,  I  can  not  accept.  He  stops  short  of  revelation, 
and  all  true  philosophy  should  point  to  the  Christian 
doctrine  of  the  cross. 

Ticknor's  charming  and  elaborate  work  on  Spanish 
literature,  I  have  just  completed.  How  shall  I  express 
my  thanks  to  this  laborious  and  elegant  scholar,  for  the 
delight  and  instruction  I  have  been  recipient  of  from  its 
pages !  How  little  have  the  best  Spanish  students 
known  of  Castilian  literature !  The  educated  world,  both 
sides  of  the  sea,  are  under  infinite  obligations  to  Mr. 
Ticknor  for  this  book.  The  only  fault  I  can  find  with 
it,  is  the  obscurity  in  which  he  has  left  the  question 
touching  the  authorship  of  that  fascinating  work,  Gon- 
salvo  de  Cordova.  I  have  two  books  with  this  title,  but 
am  at  a  loss  to  know  which  it  is  he  describes,  whether 
the  one  commencing  "Castas  musas,"  or  another.  But 
one  fault  is  a  spot  on  the  sun.  I  have  no  doubt  Mr. 
Ticknor's  work  will  create  a  taste  for  Spanish  literature. 
There  is  none  that  surpasses  it.  The  best  of  it  is  still 
in  MS.,  and  some  of  it  remains  locked  up  in  the  Arabic 
character.  It  is  odd  that  the  bulk  of  Spanish  literature 
should  consist  of  comedies,  when  we  reflect  that  the 
Spaniards   are   the   gravest    people    in    Europe.     The 


THE    SOUTHERNER    AT   HOME.  123 

French,  who  are  the  lightest  people,  excel  most  in 
tragedy!    These  facts  need  accounting  for. 

Last  evening  Isabel  read  to  us  one  of  Mrs.  Lee  Hentz's 
finely  conceived  and  gracefully  penned  stories.  We 
were  all  charmed  with  it,  and  the  colonel,  naughty  man ! 
who  thinks  ladies  are  good  for  nothing  but  to  stitch  and 
sew,  play  the  guitar  and  piano,  marveled  "that  a  woman 
could  write  so  well."  He  even  goes  so  far  in  his  pre- 
judice as  to  refuse  to  read  a  book  written  by  a  female  I 
Isabel  read  Madame  de  Stael's  "Corinne"  in  French,  to 
him,  lately,  and  he  was  as  charmed  with  it  as  the  authoress 
could  have  desired.  He  would  even  forego  his  afternoon 
nap  and  cigar  after  dinner,  to  come  to  the  drawing-room 
to  listen.  We  have  a  conspiracy  against  him,  and  mean 
he  shall  yet  confess  that  books  written  by  women  are  the 
only  books  worth  reading. 

We  are  somewhat  puzzled  to  know  who  wrote  "  Shir- 
ley," a  man  or  woman!  I  am  satisfied  it  is  a  woman. 
It  is  a  well  told  story,  but  does  not  deserve  half  the 
praise  that  has  been  lavished  upon  it.  Mrs.  Ann  S. 
Stephens  has  more  talent,  and  can  write  better  than  the 
author  of  "Shirley."  If  this  book  had  been  trimmed 
of  full  one  hundred  and  fifty  pages  of  prosy  verbiage, 
the  balance  would  have  entitled  it  to  a  place  by  the  side 
of  the  "Vicar  of  Wakefield ;"  but  as  it  is,  it  will  not  live 
two  years, — it  will  never  become  a  library  book.  Poor 
Goldsmith!  What  a  pity  he  is  not  alive  to  enjoy  the 
sunshine  of  his  posthumous  popularity!  Last  week  I 
saw  a  copy  of  Shakspeare,  superbly  illustrated.  It  cost 
$150.  I  sighed  that  "Witty  Will"  was  not  living  to 
read  his  own  works  in  such  splendid  drapery.  How 
such  things  mock  all  human  glory !    Great  men  live  and 


124  THE    SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

struggle,  and  toil,  not  for  themselves,  but  for  the  future. 
They  die  ignorant  that  they  leave  an  imperishable  name 
on  the  earth.  How  few  men  have  cotemporaneous 
fame!  Washington  Irving,  Bryant,  and  Tom  Moore, 
have  it!  and  they  say  poor  Moore  has  become  imbecile. 
I  mentioned  this  to  a  young  lady  whom  I  heard  singing 
one  of  his  songs. 

"Is  he?"  she  replied,  in  a  half  inquiring,  half  indiffer- 
ent tone,  and  went  on  with  her  song. 

"Such,"  thought  I,  "is  immortality!  Such  is  human 
glory!  A  great  man  dies — a  great  poet  becomes  in- 
sane— and  the  world  says,  'Is  he?'  and  rolls  on  as 
before !" 

I  have  been  for  a  couple  of  days  past  on  a  visit  to  a 
neighboring  estate.  Upon  it  is  a  large,  green  mound, 
which  the  proprietor  excavated  for  our  entertainment. 
The  result  was  the  dishumation  of  several  beautiful  vases 
of  lemon-colored  clay,  baked  like  porcelain ;  arrow  heads, 
beads,  bones,  amulets,  and  idols.  One  of  the  last 
weighed  seventy  pounds,  was  the  size  of  a  boy  six  years 
old,  carved  out  of  limestone.  It  was  seated  a  la  Turk, 
and  had  a  hideously  ugly  face.  It,  nevertheless,  proves 
that  the  Indians  had  notions  of  sculpture.  It  is  pre- 
cisely like  the  pictures  of  such  deities  in  Stephens'  book 
on  Central  America.  It  is  to  be  sent  to  the  celebrated 
cabinet  of  Professor  Troost,  in  Nashville,  a  collection 
not  surpassed  in  the  Union.  The  doctor  is  a  venerable 
Dr.  Franklin  looking  man,  is  an  enthusiastic  geologist, 
and  is  polite  to  the  ladies,  especially  the  young  and 
beautiful,  for  though  he  has  seen  eighty-one  years,  he 
can  distinguish  specimens  in  that  way. 

A  young  friend  of  ours,  who  lives  not  far  distant,  and 


THE   SOUTHERNER  AT   HOME.  125 

is  a  frequent  visitor  at  the  Park,  after  paving  a  visit  to 
this  cabinet,  was  seized  with  the  cacoethes  of  geologizing. 
He  passed  two  weeks  in  the  woods  and  hills,  and  wander- 
ing along  rivulets,  till  he  loaded  himself  and  two  slaves 
down  with  specimens.  With  them  he  made  his  way  to 
the  presence  of  the  worthy  doctor,  whom  he  intended 
both  to  gratify  and  surprise  with  his  rich  donations  to 
science. 

The  venerable  professor  received  him  and  his  treasures 
with  his  characteristic  courtesy,  and  when  he  under- 
stood that  the  specimens  were  destined  to  enrich  the 
cabinet,  his  fine  old  Franklin  face  brightened  with  de- 
light. I  will  describe  the  scene  in  our  friend's  own 
words : 

"  The  first  rock  he  took  out  he  glanced  at,  and  tossed 
it  aside,  with  some  indistinct  sounds  I  could  not  under- 
stand. I  thought  it  was  German.  The  next  rock,  which 
I  took  to  be  a  fine  agate,  he  tossed  away  with  the  same 
muttering.  So  he  went  on  till  he  had  thrown  away  a 
dozen,  each  one  with  looks  of  increased  disappointment 
and  unconcealed  contempt. 

"'What  is  that  you  say  about  them,  doctor?'  I  asked. 

" '  Vater  vorn — all  vater  vorn.' 

"'Water  worn?    What  is  that?'  I  asked. 

'"Worn  smoot';  not'in' but  bebbles.  Dey  goot  for 
not'in',  if  dey  all  de  same!' 

" '  They  are  all  the  same,'  I  replied,  chop-fallen. 

'"Den  dey  all  good  for  not'in'.' 

"I  told  the  boys  to  shovel  them  back  into  the  bags, 
and  as  I  saw  a  shy  twinkle  in  the  professoi''s  eye,  I  dis- 
solved!" 

Perhaps  no  state  is  so  rich  as  Tennessee  in  geology. 


126  THE   SUNNY   south;    OR, 

A  bare  inspection  of  this  cabinet  will  show  this.  The 
doctor  has  some  rare  diamonds  and  jewels,  which  he 
takes  great  pleasure  in  showing  to  the  ladies;  and  his 
collection  of  polished  stones  will  shame  even  the  most 
brilliant  show-case  of  your  much  extolled  Bailey  &  Co. 
Among  the  curiosities  is  a  bowie-knife  wrought  out 
of  a  thunderbolt,  (magnetic  iron,)  which  fell  in  this 
state. 

The  iron  of  this  description  is  beautifully  crystalized, 
unlike  any  thing  belonging  to  terrestrial  geology.  The 
"water  worn"  specimen  collector,  above  mentioned,  was, 
not  a  great  while  since,  the  subject  of  an  amusing  inci- 
dent. He  has  been  for  some  time  an  admirer  of  a  cousin 
of  Isabel's,  a  belle  and  a  fortune:  and  it  was  settled  they 
were  to  marry.  But  one  evening  when  he  called,  he 
found  her  unaccountably  distant  and  cold.  She  would 
only  answer  him  in  monosyllables,  and  with  scarcely  an 
opening  in  her  lips.  If  he  drew  near  her,  she  would 
draw  back;  if  he  demanded  an  explanation,  she  replied 
only  by  silence.  At  length  he  arose  and  left,  and  she 
silently  bowed  him  "good  night."  Unable  to  account 
for  such  conduct,  and  wondering  how  he  could  have 
offended  her,  he  early  next  morning  came  riding  at 
spur-speed  to  the  Park,  to  unfold  his  distress  to  his  fair 
friend,  Isabel,  and  beg  her  intercession  to  heal  the 
breach. 

He  had  hardly  got  'through  his  story  and  received 
Isabel's  promise,  before  her  cousin  was  announced.  She 
entered,  arrayed  in  an  elegant  green  riding  costume, 
with  a  snow  white  plume  pending  to  her  .shoulder.  She 
looked  earnest  and  anxious.  But,  seeing  her  lover,  she 
was  about  to  smile  and   address   him  in  a  frank    and 


THE   SOUTHERNER  AT   HOME.  127 

usual  manner,  when  his  cold  bow  and  haughty  air  chilled 
her.  She  turned  away,  and,  embracing  her  cousin, 
walked  through  the  folding  doors  into  the  farther  room 
with  her.  Here  she  told  her  how  she  had  offended  her 
betrothed,  and  had  ridden  over  to  get  her  to  explain 
matters. 

"You  must  know,  Isabel,  that  the  doctor  prescribed 
for  my  sick-headache,  yesterday,  six  onions,  cut  fine, 
eaten  raw,  with  vinegar,  pepper,  and  salt.  Well,  I  fol- 
lowed the  prescription;  and  I  assure  you  they  were  very 
nice;  and  they  cured  my  head.  So  I  went  into  the 
parlor  to  practice  a  new  waltz,  when,  without  my  know- 
ing he  was  in  the  house,  Harry  entered  the  parlor.  I 
instantly  remembered  the  horrid  onions  and  felt  like  a 
culprit !  I  would  have  fled,  but  it  was  too  late.  What 
should  I  do  ?  I  had  to  remain  and  entertain  him.  But 
mercy!  I  dared  not  open  my  mouth,  lest  my  breath 
should  betray  the  fatal  secret !  So  I  monosyllabled  him 
— kept  as  far  off  from  him  as  possible ;  and  at  last  he 
went  off,  his  handsome  eyes  flashing  like  two  stars. 
Now  you  must  go  and  tell  him  how  it  was,  and  make 
it  up." 

.  You  may  be  sure,  Mr.  ,  that  with  two  willing 

hearts  the  reconciliation  was  not  long  in  being  effected ; 
and  the  lovers  rode  away  together  perfectly  happy. 
Poor  Harry !  water-worn  pebbles,  and  onions  with  vinfegar 
and  pepper,  are  now  his  abhorrence ! 

I  have  half  a  mind  to  try  my  pen  at  a  tale  for  you, 
Mr. .  Mrs.  Lee  Hentz's  beautiful  stories  have  in- 
spired me  with  a  desire  to  attempt  something  in  the 
same  way.     I  feel  diffident  of  my  ability  to  adventure 


128  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

into  the  higher  field  of  literature — ^but  I  can  try.  If  it 
will  not  pass  "the  ordeal  of  your  critic's  eye,"  you  have 
only  to  call  it  "water  worn;"  and  throw  it  away  with 
other  pebbles. 

Respectfully, 

Kate. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  129 


LETTER  XVII. 


My  dear  Mr. : 

When  you  hear  I  have  been  to  the  great  "Nashville 
Convention,"  I  fear  me  you  will  have  no  more  to  do  with 
me.  It  was  curiosity  that  tempted  me,  and,  being  a 
"Yankee  Girl,"  I  felt  the  greatest  desire  to  be  present 
at  a  meeting  which  was  drawing  the  attention  of  the 
whole  Union,  if  not  of  the  whole  world.  The  colonel 
is  a  true  Southern  man  in  interests  as  well  as  feeling, 
and,  at  breakfast  table  on  the  morning  of  the  3d  inst., 
he  said,  in  his  badinage  manner : 

"Kate,  what  say  you  to  going  to  the  Convention?" 

"The  Nashville  Convention,  sir?"  I  exclaimed,  with  a 
start  of  innate  horror. 

"  Yes ;  it  begins  its  session  to-day.  It  is  but  three 
hours'  drive  into  town,  and  I  am  going  in  to  see  what 
they  are  going  to  do.  Isabel  is  desirous  of  being  pre- 
sent, as  ladies  are  especially  invited  to  grace  the  assem- 
blage." 

"  I  thought  they  were  to  meet  with  closed  doors,  colo- 
nel," I  said,  in  my  innocence,  having  the  ghost  of  the 
Hartford  Convention  before  my  eyes. 

"No;  they  will  do  all  open  and  fearlessly,  Kate.     If 

you  can  overcome  your  scruples  enough  to  be  of  the 

party,  we  should  be  delighted  to  have  you  go." 

After  a  few  moments'  reflection,  I  concluded  to  con- 
9 


130  THE  SUNNY  south;  or, 

sent,  though  I  must  confess  with  some  compunctions  of 
conscience,  Mr. ,  for  I  religiously  believed  the  Con- 
vention to  be  traitorous  in  its  spirit,  in  its  views,  and  in 
its  tendencies. 

The  carriage  was  at  the  door  as  soon  as  breakfast  was 
over,  and,  after  three  hours'  drive,  we  entered  Nashville, 
a  city,  as  I  have  before  remarked,  presenting  the  most 
charming  aspect  to  the  approacher  of  any  inland  town  in 
the  Union.  The  tall,  Egyptian  towers  of  the  Presbyte- 
rain  church,  the  Gothic  battlements  of  the  Episcopalian, 
and  the  pointed  turrets  of  the  Baptist,  the  fortress-like 
outline  of  the  half-finished  Capitol,  and  the  dome  of  the 
Court  house,  with  the  numerous  cupolas,  galleries, 
groves,  and  bridges,  together  form  a  coup  d'oeil  that 
enchants  the  eye.  On  our  road,  we  had  overtaken  an 
open  traveling  barouche,  containing  two  South  Caro- 
linians, on  their  way  to  the  Convention.  One  of  them 
being  known  and  recognized  by  the  colonel,  we  had  quite 
an  animated  conversation,  as  we  rode  side  by  side. 

Arrived  in  town,  we  stopped  at  an  elegant  mansion, 
the  abode  of  a  relation  of  the  colonel,  where  we  were 
made  as  much  at  home  as  Ave  could  have  been  at  the 
Park.  We  found  the  city  thronged  with  strangers  from 
all  the  Southern  states,  and  the  houses  of  the  best  fami- 
lies were  hospitably  opened  to  entertain  them.  Upon 
expressing  my  surprise  to  an  eminent  whig  jurist  opposed 
to  the  Convention,  that  he  should  have  thrown  open  the 
larffcst  and  best  rooms  of  his  house  to  the  members  of  it, 
he  remarked  that  "he  could  never  forget  the  laws  of 
hospitality,  and  that  it  was  his  opinion  that  strangers 
visiting  the  city  should  be  received  with  kindness  and 


THE   SOUTHERNER  AT   HOME.  131 

civility."  I  honored  the  venerable  gentleman  for  this 
specimen  of  old  Roman  feeling. 

The  Convention  at  first  convened  in  the  Odd  Fellows' 
Hall,  a  large  and  beautiful  edifice,  but  not  being  found 
convenient  for  the  accommodation  of  spectators,  espe- 
cially the  ladies,  the  McKendree  Church,  which  is  the 
most  spacious  in  the  city,  was  ofi"ered  to  it  and  accepted. 
As  we  entered  the  vestibule,  which  was  thronged  with 
gentlemen,  I  noticed  a  placard,  reading  in  large  letters 
as  follows  :  "  The  pews  on  each  side  of  the  church  on  the 
floor,  reserved  for  ladies  ;  and  no  gentleman  without  a 
lady  to  be  admitted  on  the  floor  unless  he  is  a  member. 
This  rule  will  be  strictly  enforced." 

Upon  entering,  we  found  the  house  filled,  the  mem- 
bers occupying  the  body  of  the  church,  the  ladies, 
like  borders  of  flowers,  (that  is  a  gallant  delegate's 
figure  of  speech,)  enclosing  them  on  each  side,  and  the 
galleries  packed  with  lookers-on  and  lookers-down,  some 
of  them  with  their  hats  on  their  heads,  for  there  are 
some  men  that  don't  know  when  they  ought  to  keep  their 
hats  ofi".  Through  the  politeness  of  General ,  a  gen- 
tleman as  distinguished  for  his  patriotism  as  for  his 
politeness,  we  were  escorted  to  an  advantageous  seat  near 
the  platform,  although  we  did  not  turn  any  gentleman 
out  of  his  seat  in  order  to  get  places  for  ourselves. 

I  know  of  nothing  more  uncivil  or  worthy  of  being  re- 
buked, than  that  rudeness  so  common  among  ladies,  which 
leads  them  to  make  a  gentleman  sacrifice  to  them  a  seat, 
which,  perhaps,  he  has  with  much  difficulty  obtained  for 
himself.  It  is  the  duty  of  every  man  coming  into  a 
crowded  room  with  ladies,  io  find  places  for  them  without 
discommoding  other  men.   I  saw  two  "  ladies"  come  in  and 


132  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

stand  before  a  pew,  and  look  steadily  at  an  elderly  gen- 
tleman in  it,  as  if  they  were  resolved  to  look  him  out  of 
his  seat,  though  his  wife  and  daughters  were  with  him  in 
the  pew ;  but  the  height  of  impertinence  is  for  a  man 
with  females  under  escort,  to  ask  another  gentleman  to 
rise  and  give  his  seat  to  the  ladies ;  yet,  during  the  session 
of  the  Convention,  I  saw  this  thing  done  repeatedly. 
Madame  de  Stael  says,  in  her  admirable  "  Corinne :" 
"I'idi^e  que  les  grands  seigneurs  de  Rome  ont  de  I'hon- 
neur  et  du  devoir,  c'est  d^  ne  pas  quitter  d'un  pas  ni 
d'un  instant  leur  dame."  I  fully  subscribe  to  this  law 
of  manners  in  its  application  to  the  present  purpose. 

When  we  entered,  Mr.  Hammond,  of  South  Carolina, 
was  addressing  the  chair,  which  was  filled  by  a  dignified, 
Andrew  Jackson-looking  man,  who,  I  learned  from  the 
colonel,  who  knows  almost  everybody,  was  Judge  Sharkey, 
of  Mississippi.  Mr.  Hammond's  head  struck  me  as  very 
fine.  He  is  of  a  pale,  intellectual  aspect,  with  a  high 
forehead,  white  and  polished ;  indeed,  his  whole  face 
was  almost  as  colorless  as  alabaster,  and  seemed  chiseled 
out  of  marble.  What  he  said  was  moderate  and  conser- 
vative, and  what  particularly  surprised  me  throughout 
the  nine  days  sitting  of  the  Convention,  was  the  calm, 
dignified,  and  impassioned  attitude  taken  and  held  by 
the  South  Carolina  delegation.  They  spoke  little,  giv- 
ing the  lead  to  others  rather  than  taking  it  themselves, 
yet  it  was  perhaps  the  most  talented,  Mississippi  alone 
excepted,  delegation  in  the  Convention.  Barnwell  Rhet, 
of  South  Carolina,  spoke  during  the  day,  and  made  a 
favorable  impression.  He  is  a  strong-minded  man,  with 
a  head  something  like  late  Attorney-General  Lcgard's, 
and  a  manner   highly  courteous  in  debate;    and  this 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  133 

finished  courtesy  seems  to  me  characteristic  of  these 
Carolinian  gentlemen.  Mr.  Barnwell  (since  chosen 
United  States  Senator  in  place  of  Mr.  Elmore)  also 
made  a  short  reply  to  one  of  the  delegates.  He  is  a 
strong  man,  and  holds  rank  with  the  leading  intellects 
of  the  South.  His  intellectual  weight  will  be  felt  in 
the  Senate.  Mr.  Cheves,  of  the  same  delegation,  is  a 
hale,  white-headed  old  gentleman,  with  a  fine  port-wine 
tint  to  his  florid  cheek.  He  has  a  high  reputation,  I 
believe,  but  during  the  session  he  said  but  little.  The 
most  eloquent  man  of  this  delegation  is  Mr.  Pickens. 
He  made  a  speech  on  the  sixth  day  that  surpassed  any 
thing  in  the  way  of  forensic  eloquence  I  ever  imagined. 
He  has  a  face  like  one  of  the  old  Roman  emperors,  which 
I  have  seen  on  a  coin,  Nerva,  I  think,  and  his  oratory  is 
worthy  of  the  Forum.  By  turns,  calm  and  tempestuous, 
gentle  and  strong,  witty  and  withering,  logical  and  ima- 
ginative ;  at  one  moment,  the  audience  would  be  startled 
with  the  thunders  of  the  rock-beating  surges;  and  at 
another,  soothed  by  the  soft  zephyrs  of  a  summer  sea. 
His  rhetoric  was  profusely  ornamented  with  figures  and 
metaphors,  like  an  exquisite  mosaic.  Altogether,  he  is 
one  of  the  most  finished  orators  it  has  been  my  good 
fortune  to  listen  to ;  and  the  colonel  says,  his  speech  on 
this  occasion  was  worthy  to  be  compared  to  the  most 
noble  efforts  of  Wirt  and  Patrick  Henry.  South  Caro- 
lina, in  truth,  sent  her  jewels  here,  and  their  talents  have 

won  them  golden  opinions.     Be  assured,  Mr. ,  that 

the  sentiments  of  this  state  have  been  misrepresented. 
Throughout  the  Convention,  her  sons  were  models  of 
conservatism  and  healthy  patriotism.  Seated  near  them 
was  the  Mayor  of  Charleston,  called  "the  handsome 


134  THE  SUNNY  south;  or, 

Mayor,"   Mr.  H ,  a  worthy  descendant  of  Colonel 

Hutchinson,  of  Cromwell's  time,  and  of  the  Mrs.  Hutch- 
inson, whose  memoirs  are  so  well  known.  He  was 
pointed  out  to  me  by  a  lady  with  :  "  Don't  you  think  he 
is  the  handsomest  man  in  the  house?"  He  is  not  a  de- 
legate, hut  only  a  "  looker-on  in  Venice."  He  has  been 
to  the  Mammoth  Cave,  near  here,  within  a  few  days 
past,  and  his  description  of  it  to  me  I  must  give  you,  it 
is  so  truthful :  "  The  sensation,"  said  he,  "  on  beholding 
it  when  standing  beneath  the  main  dome  is  precisely  like 
that  experienced  in  gazing  upon  Niagara ;  it  is  Niagara 
in  reposed 

The  Virginia  delegation  took  a  very  active  part  in  all 
the  debates.  It  was,  if  possible,  more  ultra  than  any 
of  the  rest.  The  Hon.  Beverly  Tucker,  a  half  brother 
of  John  Randolph,  spoke  often,  but  what  he  said  did  not 
please  me.  He  is,  moreover,  past  his  vigor,  and  enter- 
ing his  dotage.  His  speech  was  exceedingly  bitter,  and 
out  of  temper.  It  was  the  only  one  that  was  recrimi- 
nating against  the  North ;  for  a  spirit  of  forbearance  in 
this  direction  has  peculiarly  marked  the  whole  body. 
The  North  is  alluded  to  as  "  our  northern  brethren,"  or 
"  our  sister  states,"  &c.,  and  there  is  almost,  as  I  have  said, 
a  total  absence  of  vituperation.  Mr.  Tucker,  however, 
something  in  the  spirit  and  something  in  the  manner  of 
Randolph,  of  Roanoke,  let  out  his  bitterness,  and  was 
sometimes  forgetful  that  ladies  were  present.  He  is  a 
venerable  and  gentlemanly-looking  man,  and  bears  a  high 
reputation,  I  believe,  but  it  is  rather  for  what  he  has 
been.  The  most  able  and  patriotic  member  of  the  Vir- 
ginia delegation  was  Mr.  Gordon,  who  spoke  always  well, 
and  to  the  purpose.     He  has  something  of  the  massive- 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  135 

ness  of  Webster  in  his  n^nner  of  speaking,  and  was 
always  listened  to  with  deep  interest.  The  several  dele- 
gations from  the  several  states,  (nine  states  in  all,)  were 
seated  each  bj  itself.  The  two  places  of  honor,  the 
front  pews  on  each  side  of  the  broad  aisle,  directly  in  front 
of  the  President's  chair,  were  given  to  South  Carolina 
and  Mississippi ;  on  the  right  of  the  latter  was  Virginia, 
occupying  two  pews  ;  on  the  left  of  Carolina  was  Florida. 
In  the  rear  of  South  Carolina  was  Alabama,  and  in  the 
rear  of  Mississippi  were  placed  the  Georgians.  The  Ten- 
nessee delegates,  among  whom  was  General  Pillow,  in  a 
military  white  vest,  and  Major  W.  H.  Polk,  the  late  Pre- 
sident's brother,  occupied  the  side  pew  on  the  left  of  the 
pulpit.  In  front  of  the  pulpit  is  a  carpeted  platform, 
within  the  chancel-railing,  on  which  a  dozen  little  green 
tables  were  placed  for  editors  and  reporters. 

In  the  centre,  before  the  desk,  sat  Judge  Sharkey  and 
the  vice-president.  Gov.  McDonald  of  Georgia,  supported 
by  their  secretaries.  What,  with  the  vast  assemblage 
before  them,  and  the  reflections  upon  the  important  sub- 
ject which  had  convened  such  a  House,  the  whole  scene 
was  imposing  and  solemn  in  the  extreme.  Perhaps 
since  the  meeting  of  the  Signers  of  the  Declaration  of 
our  priceless  Independence,  no  Convention  has  been  as- 
sembled in  the  Union,  so  fraught  with  profound  and 
sober  interest  as  this.  It  was  no  assemblage  of  young 
politicians,  ambitious  for  notoriety.  Everywhere,  as  I 
looked  over  the  house,  my  eyes  fell  on  gray  heads  vene- 
rable by  wisdom.  The  majority  of  the  members  were 
men  whose  names  are  known  to  the  world  with  distinc- 
tion,— men  who  are  the  pride,  and  glory,  and  honor  of 
the  South.     Governors,  Judges,  ex-members  of  Congress, 


13G  THE  SUNNY  south;  or, 

eminent  jurists,  and  distinguished  orators,  composed  the 
-assembly.  Dignified  in  its  character,  calm,  and  delibe- 
rate in  its  debates, — as  if  impressed  with  the  solem- 
nity of  their  combined  attitude  before  the  country  and 
the  world, — they  struck  me  as  forming,  for  the  time 
being,  the  true  Congress  of  the  country;  for  the  consti- 
tutional assemblies  at  Washington  seemed  to  be  sus- 
pended in  action  while  tliis  one  was  in  session,  as  if  wait- 
ing for  the  result  of  its  deliberations.  And  there  is  lit- 
tle doubt  but  there  was  as  much  talent  in  this  Congress 
as  in  that.  All  its  proceedings  were  marked  by  the 
severest  parliamentary  etiquette ;  and  I  heard  gentlemen, 
who  dined  at  the  house  where  we  were  guests,  say  that 
the  whole  tone  and  temper  of  the  proceedings  and 
discussions  were  not  unworthy  of  the  United  States 
Senate.  You  see  I  am  getting  to  be  quite  a  Southerner 
in  feeling.  But  I  must  describe  as  I  saw,  and  write  as 
I  feel.  Opposed  as  I  was  to  the  Convention,  I  cannot 
withhold  justice  where  it  is  due.  At  first  the  citizens 
of  Nashville  were  opposed  to  it ;  but  day-by-day,  as  its 
sessions  advanced,  it  grew  into  favor.  The  galleries 
(the  people  sovereign)  thundered  applause,  and  the  ladies 
smiled  approbation. 

The  members  beguiled  the  tedium  of  the  reading  of 
the  resolutions  in  going  from  pew  to  pew,  chatting  with 
the  beautiful  women,  and  the  sessions  were  thus  varied 
by  some  interesting  flirtations  on  the  part  of  the  hand- 
some widowers,  and  married  men,  too,  to  say  nothing  of 
bachelors,  who  seem  to  live  single  in  order  to  flirt. 
Brilliant  parties  had  been  given  nearly  every  evening  to 
the  delegates,  and  dinner  parties  were  the  order  of  the 
day.     The  whole  city,  all  the  time  of  the  session,  was  in 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  137 

deliffhtful  excitement;  and  fair  widows  and  beautiful 
girls  reigned  in  all  their  splendor  and  power.  Many  a 
heart  was  lost, — and  some  of  the  most  firm  disunionists 
brought  over  to  the  opinion  that  one  kind  of  union  is 
at  least  very  desirable.  Probably  Nashville  has  never 
seen  so  gay  a  fortnight  as  that  during  the  sitting  of  this 
brilliant  Convention. 

The  most  talented  and  active  member  of  the  Mississippi 
delegation  was  a  Mr.  McRea,  a  young  man,  but  who 
has  made  himself  a  man  of  mark,  by  the  display  of  his 
talents  for  debate  on  this  occasion.  The  most  exciting 
speech  made,  was  by  the  Hon.  Mr.  Colquitt  of  Georgia. 
He  is  athletic,  short,  compact,  and  iron-looking,  with  a 
large  intellectual  head,  thick  with  wiry,  gray  hair,  grow- 
ing erect  all  over  it ;  a  jutting,  black  brow,  and  a  firm 
mouth,  the  whole  man  and  the  whole  face  being  stamped 
with  a  rough,  fiery  energy.  He  rose  to  reply  to  some 
moderate  member,  against  the  Compromise,  I  believe, — 
and  growing  excited,  he  jumped  from  his  pew  into  the 
broad  aisle,  to  have  more  space.  Here  he  spoke  with 
perfect  abandonment !  His  voice  rung  like  a  bugle !  He 
would  rapidly  advance,  sometimes  five  or  six  steps,  as  if 
about  to  leap  the  chancel  railing  at  a  bound,  and  then 
stopping  full,  terribly  stamp,  stamp  his  right  foot,  and 
discharge  his  artillery-like  thoughts,  which  seemed 
bursting  for  more  vehemence  than  he  could  give  them ; 
(and  never  man  had  more;)  at  another  time  he  would  re- 
treat step  by  step,  speaking  slowly  in  whispering  irony, 
half  down  the  aisle,  when  suddenly  leaping  into  the  air, 
his  voice  would  explode  like  a  shell,  and  electrify  us  all. 
Now  he  would  turn  round  and  appeal  to  this  delegate — 
now  face  an  opposite  one ;  now  he  would  advance  like  a 


138  THE   SUNNY  SOUTH;    OR, 

skirmisher,  and  utter  hoarse,  denunciatory  whispers  to 
the  President  in  the  chair,  as  if  for  his  especial  ear.  In 
a  word,  he  made  a  most  extraordinary  speech,  in  which 
the  manner  of  all  the  best  orators  of  the  land  was  mixed 
up  with  that  of  some  of  the  worst.  It  was  in  oratory, 
what  a  medley  would  be  in  song !  It  was  wild,  fierce, 
terrible,  dreadful,  mad — yet  most  wonderful  to  listen  to. 
It  was  eloquence  tied  to  the  back  of  a  wild  horse,  Ma- 
zeppa-like ! 

General  Pillow  also  spoke  several  times,  and  spoke 
well.  I  had  the  greatest  curiosity  to  see  him,  having 
heard  so  much  of  him.  He  lives  in  elegant  and  opulent 
retirement,  not  far  south  of  Nashville,  and  is  ycr^  popular 
in  this  state,  and  may  be  the  next  governor.  All  those 
foolish  stories  told  about  him  by  the  papers,  have  been 
proved  to  have  no  foundation,  and  ought  to  be  dismissed 
from  the  public  mind.  He  is  in  the  prime  of  life,  de- 
cidedly a  handsome  man,  with  a  marked  military  air. 
There  is  a  smile  in  his  eyes,  and  which  generally  plays 
about  his  finely  shaped  firm  mouth,  that  renders  the  ex- 
pression of  his  countenance  singularly  pleasing.  He 
looks  like  a  gallant  and  chivalrous  gentleman,  and  his 
speeches  were  all  patriotic  and  to  the  point.  This  dis- 
tinguished man  has  been  called  vain,  because  some  sup- 
pose he  wrote  a  self-commending  account  of  the  battle  in 
which  he  had  fought  so  well. 

There  is  classic  authority  for  such  a  sentiment,  which 
I  believe  is  not  an  unworthy  part  of  human  nature. 
Pliny  says,  in  his  nineteenth  letter,  book  ninth,  to  Rufo : 
"In  my  opinion,  every  man  who  has  acted  a  great,  a 
distinguished  part,  deserves  not  only  to  be  excused,  but 
approved,  if  lie  endeavors  to  secure  immortality  to  the 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  139 

fame  he  has  merited,  and  to  perpetuate  an  everlasting 
remembrance  of  himself."  Frontinus  forbade  a  monu- 
ment to  be  erected  to  him,  saying,  "  The  remembrance 
of  me  will  remain  if  mj  actions  deserve  it !"  Some  men 
call  this  modest  in  Frontinus,  but  in  my  opinion  it  is  the 
perfection  of  vanity ;  for  he  is  so  impressed  with  the  cer- 
tainty that  his  actions  will  be  remembered,  that  he  pro- 
claims it  to  the  world.  I  think  every  man  who  performs 
noble  actions,  should  take  pains  that  they  are  set  right 
for  the  eyes  of  posterity;  and  if  such  a  course  be  vain, 
then  is  Caesar  the  vainest  of  men,  as  he  was  among  the 
bravest  and  wisest. 

Why  is  it,  Mr. ,  (listening  to  the  debates  has  led 

me  to  the  reflection,)  that  men  talk  to  one  or  two  per- 
sons, but  declaim  to  a  hundred  ?  You  see  the  absurdity 
of  making  a  loud  and  oratorical  harangue  to  a  single 
auditor,  yet  let  another  and  another  be  added,  till  there 
is  an  assembly,  and  the  conversation  is  elevated  to  ora- 
torical declamation.  Pliny,  who  is  a  great  favorite  with 
me,  speaking  of  the  same  subject,  says : 

"  The  reason  I  imagine  to  be,  that  there  is,  I  know 
not  what  dignity  in  the  collective  sentiments  of  a  mul- 
titude, and  though  separately  their  judgment  is,  per- 
haps, of  little  weight,  yet,  when  united,  it  becomes  re- 
spectable." 

Major  Wm.  H.  Polk  spoke  two  or  three  times  early 
in  the  session.  He  has  a  remarkable  voice,  deep  as  a 
volcano.  He  is  a  handsome  man,  but  is  bearded  like 
an  Ottoman  chief.  His  manner  of  delivery  is  striking, 
from  his  emphatic  enunciation.  AVith  every  word,  he 
makes  an  energetic  nod  forward,  and  the  vowels  are  all 
enunciated   with   the   precision   of  an   elocutionist,   in 


140  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

particular  the  terminations  ioriy  wliich  he  pronounces 
round  and  full  in  two  distinct  syllables,  like  a  Spaniard 
speaking  his  own  sonorous  tongue.  He  always  spoke  to 
the  purpose,  and  with  great  boldness. 

To  show  you  how  little  popular  applause  can  be  ap- 
pealed to  as  a  criterion  of  opinions,  I  heard  the  galleries 
one  hour  applaud  a  suggestion  of  "  non-intercourse,"  and 
the  next  hour  a  defence  of  the  Union.  After  passing 
their  series  of  resolutions  and  "Address  to  the  Southern 
States,"  on  the  ninth  day  the  Convention  adjourned  to 
meet  again  at  Nashville,  where  they  have  been  so 
agreeably  entertained,  the  sixth  Monday  after  the  ad- 
journment of  Congress,  if  the  action  of  that  body  prove 
hostile  to  Southern  interests.  Moderate  men  regard  this 
as  an  imprudent  challenge,  and  perilous  to  be  taken  up. 

After  a  few  local  resolutions,  voting  thanks  to  tho 
citizens  of  Nashville  for  their  hospitality  and  to  "  the 
ladies  for  their  smiles,"  the  president  made  a  neat  fare- 
well speech,  and  the  house  adjourned.  The  gallant 
Charleston  delegation  won  high  favor  by  making  a  pre- 
sent to  the  church  of  a  superb  carpet  to  compensate  for 
the  wear  of  that  which  covered  the  floor  during  the  ses- 
sion. These  South  Carolina  gentlemen  have  a  thought- 
— -ful  savoir  faire  way  of  doing  just  what  ought  to  be  done. 

Now,  Mr. ,  I  have  given  you  a  sketch  of  my  impres- 
sions of  this  famed  Convention.  I  hope  you  will  not  deem 
^  it  treasonable  to  publish  it.  What  the  result  and  influ- 
ence of  the  action  of  this  body  will  be,  is  not  for  a  fe- 
male pen  to  venture  to  say,  but  I  believe  firmly  that  it 
-^will  have  a  tendency  to  consolidate  the  Union.  The 
whole  temper  and  tone  of  the  proceedings  cannot  fail  to 
command  the  respect  of  the  North;  and  I  hope  and 


TUV   JSOTJTnERNER   AT   HOME.  141 

heartily  pray  that  the  end  of  this  unhappy  difference  will 
be  to  settle  upon  a  firmer  basis,  the  noble  political  institu- 
tions which  command  the  admiration  and  homage  of  the 

nations  of  the  earth.  ^ 

Respectfully, 

Kate. 


142  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OE^ 


LETTER    XYIII. 


My  dear  Me. : 

I  HAVE  a  secret  for  your  especial  ear-trumpet,  but, 
perhaps  you  are  not  old  and  deaf,  and  so  don't  use  a 
trumpet ;  but  the  only  two  editors  I  ever  saw,  were  both 
deaf,  and  kept  clapping  their  ear-trumpets  to  their  tym- 
pana, like  two  sportsmen  bringing  Colt's  rifles  to  their 
eyes.  The  secret  is  this :  Last  evening,  Juba,  who  brings 
our  mail  from  town,  placed  a  letter  in  my  hand,  ad- 
dressed, "Miss  Catharine  Conyngham,  care  of  Col. , 

&c."  I  thought  the  hand- writing  was  my  brother's,  the 
midshipman,  and  tore  the  seal  with  fingers  trembling, 
and  heart  bounding.     But  it  proved  to  be  from  an  editor 

— yes,  Mr. ,  a  real  editor,  and  publisher  of  a  weekly 

literary  paper.  And  what  do  you  think  was  the  pur- 
port of  it  ?  I  dare  say,  if  I  left  it  to  you  to  say,  you 
would  be  wicked  enough  to  reply,  "A  declaration  of 
love."  It  was  no  such  thing  !  It  w^as  a  very  polite  re- 
quest that  I  would  contribute  some  "Needles"  to  his 
paper,  and  if  I  could  not  furnish  him  with  a  series  of 
"Needles,"  to  oblige  him  with  a  series  of  "Tales." 
Tales  ?  I,  who  have  not  the  least  grain  of  imagination, 
write  tales !  My  reply  I  shall  defer,  till  I  hear  from  you 
and  have  your  permission ;  for,  I  do  not  feel  that  I  can, 
in  justice,  contribute  to  any  other  columns  without  your 
full  consent — for  you  arc  my  literary  god-father,  Mr. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  148 

.     Suppose   I  Trritc   a  tale   for  you.     I  will  try. 

Perhaps  it  may  turn  out  a  simple  affair,  in  that  case  you 
won't  publish  it,  and  so  no  harm  will  be  done.  It  is  one 
thing  to  write  sketches,  and  quite  another  thing  to  write 
a  thrilling  tale.  In  a  week  or  two,  I  will  see  what  I  can 
do,  and  send  you  the  first  fruit  of  my  venture  into  the 
world  of  fiction.  "  Perhaps  it  may  turn  out  a  song, 
perhaps  turn  out  a  sermon." 

You  will  be  interested  to  know  that  I  have  not  heard 
a  blow  struck  on  this  estate,  and  the  colonel  says  he  has 
not  punished  one  of  his  slaves  in  seven  years.  It  is 
true  all  men  are  not  like  the  good  colonel,  yet  for  the 
most  part  the  planters  are  kind  and  considerate  towards 
their  slaves.  They  often  give  them  Saturday  afternoons, 
and  all  day  Sunday,  when  they  appear  in  holiday  attire, 
gayest  of  the  gay.  They  are  all  great  lovers  of  going 
to  meeting,  and  delight  in  hearing  preaching^  and  their 
fixed  and  earnest  attention  in  church,  might  be  an  ex- 
ample to  their  superiors.  Marriages  are  performed  by 
the  planters  themselves,  with  great  show  of  ceremony, 
by  gravely  reading  the  service  from  the  prayer-book. 
We  had  a  wedding  last  week  ;  Jenny,  the  sempstress,  a 
pretty  mulatress,  being  married  to  Charles,  the  ebony 
coachman  of  Dr.  Bellman,  who  lives  three  miles  from  us. 

At  seven  o'clock,  the  whole  party  made  its  appearance 
in  the  great  hall,  at  one  end  of  which  stood  the  colonel, 
Isabel,  myself,  and  several  friends  from  the  neighboring 
plantations.  Dressed  in  white — a  white  satin  petticoat, 
with  book-muslin  robe  worn  over,  and  with  a  wreath  of 
flowers,  which  Isabel  had  gathered  from  rare  plants  in  the 
conservatory  upon  her  head,  with  a  high  comb,  and  long 
lace  veil,  ear-rings,  bracelets,  and  satin  shoes  with  span- 


144  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

gles,  the  bride  first  entered,  attended  by '  er  two  bride's- 
maids — one  of  these,  my  handsome  negress,  Eda.  The 
bride's-maids  were  both  dressed  very  richly,  Isabel  having 
given  one  of  them  one  of  her  beautiful  dresses,  and  loaned 
her  diamond  pin  and  ruby  bracelets.  I  also  decked  out 
my  Eda  in  a  figured  white  muslin,  two  bracelets,  a  neck- 
lace and  brooch,  and  she  really  looked  superb,  with  her 
large,  fine  eyes  and  graceful  figure.  From  the  neigh- 
boring estates  were  several  females,  handsomely  dressed, 
and  wearing  their  mistresses'  willingly  loaned  jewels,  so 
that,  at  this  wedding  of  slaves,  shone  more  jewels  (thanks 
to  the  kind  indulgence  of  masters  and  mistresses)  than 
are  often  seen  in  more  elegant  assemblies. 

The  hall  Avas  soon  filled,  and  as  far  as  I  could  sec  into 
the  piazza  beyond,  was  a  sea  of  woolly  heads,  of  "cul- 
lered"  gentlemen  and  ladies.  Dr.  Bellman,  a  hale  gen- 
tleman of  the  most  frank  and  cordial  manners,  white 
hair,  ruddy  cheeks,  portly  form,  and  always  laughing, 
and  telling  some  funny  story — he  himself  "gave  away  the 
bride."  The  colonel  read  the  service  for  the  ceremony 
in  a  clear  and  solemn  voice ;  and  all  passed  ofi"  with  the 
utmost  decorum  and  gravity.  The  bride  was  not  kissed 
by  the  colonel !  The  marriage  ended,  the  whole  party, 
full  three  hundred  Africans  in  all,  went  to  the  lower  gal- 
lery that  half  surrounds  the  house,  and  is  full  one  hun- 
dred feet  long,  by  eighteen  wide,  and  here  they  formed 
into  cotillions.  The  gallery,  enclosed  by  Venetian  blinds, 
was  lighted  up  for  the  occasion,  and  three  fiddlers,  and 
a  banjo,  and  castinets,  were  perched  upon  a  platform  at 
one  end,  where  they  played  with  a  zeal  and  unweariness 
that  I  had  never  seen  cijualed.  At  eleven  o'clock,  they 
were  invited  by  the  colonel  to  supper,  which  was  laid  in 


I 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  145 

the  gallery  of  Ji^he  kitchen,  itself  a  long  structure,  en- 
closed by  a  broad  piazza.  We  all  stood  by  and  enjoyed 
the  happiness  of  the  Congoese  festivity.  One  young 
"cuUered  gentleman,"  brother  to  the  bride,  and  some- 
thing of  a  Beau  Brummel  in  his  way,  remarked  to  me, 
with  a  low  bow,  and  with  his  hand  on  his  heart — 

"Nebber  see,  young  missis,  nebber  see  so  much  beauty 
afore,  at  no  weddin'.  De  ladies  looks  splendid,  specially 
de  purty  Miss  Edy!    She  de  belle  ob  de  party!" 

Throughout  the  supper  the  utmost  order  prevailed — 
nay,  politeness  reigned!  Give  me  "cullered  gemmen" 
at  a  "cullered"  party  for  your  true  and  genuine  polite- 
ness !  The  white  gemmen  are  not  one  half  so  courteously 
polite  to  us  white  ladies,  as  the^/  are  to  their  "fair  sec!" 
Bows  and  smiles,  and  Brummellian  bends  of  the  body, 
displayings  of  teeth,  and  white  perfumed  pocket  hand- 
kerchiefs, and  glances  of  adoring  white  eyes,  were  the 
chief  features  of  the  scene. 

In  the  course  of  the  evening,  a  strange,  odd,  amusing 
sea  captain  dropped  in.  He  had  been  all  over  the 
world,  and  lived  longer  on  a  ship  than  on  land.  He  was 
now  on  a  visit  to  his  sister,  who  was  married  to  a  planter 
who  lives  near  us,  and  where  we  visit  intimately,  and 
whom  he  had  not  seen  in  twenty  years  past.  Among 
other  curiosities  which  he  brought  her,  and  which  in- 
cluded two  live  monkeys,  to  say  nothing  of  ugly-faced  gods 
of  all  the  heathen  nations  on  earth,  was  a  Bengal  tiger  ! 
The  animal  had  been  given  him  when  a  cub,  for  some 
service  he  had  performed  for  some  Rajah,  and  he  had 
kept  it  as  a  pet  till  it  had  got  nearly  its  full  growth,  and 
too  large  to  stay  in  his  ship.  T,^deed,  he  said  that  it 
had,  on  the  voyage  home  to  New  Orleans,  nearly  killed 
10 


i4i  THE   SUNNY   south;   OR, 

one  of  Lis  seamen.  So  he  brought  him  up  to  Tennessee 
in  a  cage,  and  his  monkeys  in  another,  and  some  half 
score  of  splendid  foreign  birds  in  a  third.  No  wonder, 
as  he  laughingly  says  they  did,  that  they  took  him  for 
a  menagerie  exhibitor.  His  sister  was  delighted  with 
the  birds !  amused  with  the  pranky  monkeys !  and  horri- 
fied at  the  Bengal  gentleman  in  velvet ! 
yy-  This  famous  captain,  having,  as  he  said,  "boarded  us 
in  the  midst  of  the  sport,"  after  looking  on  awhile,  came 
to  the  resolution  to  show  us  a  regular  built  "  Guinea  Coast 
fandango  dance,"  which  he  said  he  had  often  witnessed 
on  the  coast  of  Africa.  Never  was  any  thing  so  ridicu- 
lous as  the  scene  which  now  took  place.  The  captain, 
having  selected  eight  of  the  genteel  "cullered  pussons," 
four  men  and  four  women,  the  former  in  white  waist- 
coats, the  latter  in  white  muslins  and  net  gloves,  pro- 
ceeded to  explain  the  dance  to  them  with  amusing  min- 
uteness. 

He  seemed  to  be  much  surprised  that  they  showed  so 
little  aptitude  to  learn,  expressing  it  as  his  opinion  that 
the  dance  ought  to  come  to  them  naturally.  But  he 
soon  found  that  the  fashionable  African  gentlemen  and 
ladies,  whom  he  was  trying  to  initiate  into  the  heathen 
mysteries  of  their  ancestors,  had  no  more  penchant  to- 
wards such  outlandish  doings,  than  other  civilized  people. 
Indeed,  the  cullered  circle  upon  which  he  would  have 
forced  this  "old  country"  cotillion,  felt  their  feelings 
hurt  by  the  insinuation  which  his  efforts  conveyed.  The 
civilized  negro  is  very  desirous  to  bury  his  pagan  juba- 
jumping  ancestors  in  oblivion.  He  wishes  to  forget  his 
heathen  origin ;  and  the  more  removed  he  is  from  them,  the 
more  aristocratic  he  is.     A  newly-imported  African  is 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT  HOME.  147 

decidedly  vnlgar  I  The  merry  captain  at  last  gave  up 
his  pupils  in  despair,  and  entertained  us  for  an  hour 
after  we  reached  the  drawing-room,  with  graphic  and 
well  given  stories  of  what  he  had  seen  in  far  lands,  "be- 
yond the  rising  place  of  the  sun." 

At  twelve  the  party  broke  up,  and  the  invited  guests 
from  other  plantations  mounted  their  plough  horses  or 
mules,  loaned  for  the  purpose,  and  sought  their  own 
dwellings,  galloping  away  in  the  moonlight,  and  laugh* 
ing  and  talking  like  children  on  a  holiday,  till  they  were 
out  of  hearing. 

I  forgot  to  say  that  the  supper  had  been  gotten  up 
by  Isabel  and  myself,  and  that  it  was  both  handsome 
and  costly.  A  dozen  frosted  cakes,  jellies,  preserved 
fruits,  pies,  custards,  floating  island,  blanc  mange,  and 
other  nice  things  too  numerous  to  mention,  were  upon 
the  table.  In  the  centre,  and  at  each  end,  was  a  pyra- 
mid of  cake,  wreathed  with  flowers.  Indeed,  had  the 
colonel  given  a  party  to  Isabel,  her  supper  could  not 
have  been  much  more  elegant  or  expensive. 

The  captain,  who  accepted  the  colonel's  hospitality  for 
the  night,  caused  a  great  deal  of  sport  this  morning  by 
trying  to  ride !  He  absolutely  knew  nothing  about  a 
horse  ;  hardly  can  tell  the  stirrup  from  the  bridle  !  With 
a  horse-block  to  aid  him,  he  got  into  the  saddle,  but  the 
horse  had  not  trotted  six  steps  before  he  was  out  of  it 
on  the  ground,  having  lost  his  balance.  After  three 
attempts,  each  of  which  ended  in  his  being  tossed  out 
of  his  seat,  by  the  motion  of  the  horse,  he  insisted  on 
being  tied  by  the  feet,  or  "  lashed  under  the  keel,"  as 
he  called  it.  Peter,  the  black  hostler,  always  accustomed 
to  obey,  gratified  him  by  performing  this  favor  for  him, 


14$  THE  SUNNY  south;  ok, 

and  thus  firmly  secured,  he  gave  the  animal  the  bit 
and  a  blow  with  his  fist  simultaneously  on  the  haunch. 
The  consequence  was  that  Arab,  who  is  a  spirited  fellow, 
set  off  with  him  at  full  gallop,  and  as  the  park-gate  was 
fortunately  not  open  to  the  forest,  he  swept  with  him  at 
full  speed  round  and  round  the  circular  carriage-way  of 
the  lawn.  Isabel  and  I  were  already  in  our  saddles,  for 
we  were  going  out  on  a  morning  gallop,  and  we  began  to 
feel  some  anxiety  for  the  worthy  captain,  who  passed  us 
bare-headed,  his  teeth  set,  and  his  hands  grasping  Arab's 
mane,  while  the  reins  flew  wildly  in  the  air.  If  the 
rope,  by  which  his  feet  were  tied,  had  parted,  he  would 
have  been  dashed  to  the  earth.  As  it  was,  he  began  to 
slip,  and  hang  sidewise  upon  the  horse's  neck,  and  I 
really  believe  if  the  colonel's  commanding  voice  had  not 
caused  Arab  to  stop,  the  captain  would  the  next  minute 
have  been  underneath  the  horse,  with  his  feet  bottom 
upwards  over  the  saddle  ! 

"  I  would  rather  ride  out  an  equinoctial  gale,  lashed 
to  the  fore-top  gallant  cross-trees !"  cried  the  captain, 
as  he  was  relieved  from  his  perilous  situation,  "than 
mount  a  live  animal  again  !  Nature  never  intended  the 
critters  to  be  backed  !" 

I  like  the  captain,  because  I  have  discovered  that  he 
saw  and  spoke  with  my  recovered  brother  in  the  Medi- 
terranean, where  he  visited  his  ship  ;  and  I  felt  with  him 
in  his  defeat,  and  declined  to  ride. 

How  necessary  it  is  that  we  should  behold  men  in  their 
proper  position  and  pursuits,  in  order  to  know  and  give 
them  due  honor  !  Out  of  them  they  are  often  ridiculous, 
helpless,  and  ignorant.  Here  is  a  man  who  could  'battle 
with  a  storm  on  the  ocean,  and  ride  upon  the  wings  of 


THE   SOUTHEKNER   AT   HOME.  149 

the  hurricane,  its  master  !  who  would  unerringly  guide  a 
mighty  ship  across  the  pathless  waste  of  waters,  and 
who,  by  his  skill,  had  belted  the  round  earth ;  whose 
courageous  eye  had  met  fearful  perils  without  quailing, 
and  whose  manly  voice  had  given  courage  and  rekindled 
hope  in  the  sinking  bosom  of  the  timid — here  was  this 
man,  on  land,  in  unfamiliar  scenes,  surpassed  and  laughed 
at  by  the  least,  ragged,  black  urchin  that  can  bestride  a 
wild  colt. 

Yours  respectfully, 

Kate. 


150  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 


LETTEE   XIX. 
Dear  Mr. : 


L 


You  will  remember  that  I  promised  to  write  a  tale, 
or  rather  to  make  the  attempt.  I  have  written  one,  and 
will  send  it  to  you  for  your  decision.  I  hope  you  will 
be  very  severe  with  it,  and  reject  it  at  once,  if  it  is 
wanting  in  the  points  that  go  to  make  up  a  "thrilling 
story."  Do  not  let  any  consideration  for  my  vanity 
(what  woman  is  without  vanity,  especially  one  who  writes 
for  printers?)  prevent  you  from  judging  and  condemning 
impartially ;  for  candor  on  your  side  may  save  me  on 
my  side  from  many  a  foolish  perpetration  in  the  literary 
way  hereafter.  If  editors  would  show  more  courage  and 
candor,  there  would  be  fewer  scribblers,  and  more  ster- 
ling writers.  So,  if  they  complain  that  periodical  lite- 
rature is  at  a  low  ebb,  they  ought  to  blame  their  own 
indolent  criticisms,  and  not  fasten  the  guilt  upon  poor 
literateurs,  who  only  live  upon  the  nod  of  the  editorial 
tribunal.  It  depends  wholly  on  you  editors,  sir,  whe- 
ther our  manuscript  sees  print  or  lights  candles.     You 

will  now  understand,  Mr. ,  that  I  am  honest  in 

wishing  you  to  be  so ;  for  if  you,  in  the  goodness  of 
your  heart,  and  because  "I  am  a  lady,"  publish  my 
story,  and  it  is  a  poor  one,  I  shall  write  nothing  clso 
but  just  such  poor  talcs  all  my  life  !  There  is  my  fore- 
finger up  with  the  caution.     Do  you  know  that  Isabel 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT  HOME.  151 

has  a  very  neat  talent  for  writing?  I  have  some  of  her 
MSS.  which  would  delight  you,  and  if  you  will  never  tell, 
I  will  send  you  some  of  it,  but  you  must  not  publish  it 
for  the  world,  if  you  like  it  never  so  much,  for  it  is  a 
"  dead  secret." 

I  have  a  beautiful  story  to  tell  you  of  Isabel.     A  few 

days  since  she  went  to  C ,  twenty  miles  distant,  in 

the  stage.  Among  the  passengers  was  a  white-headed, 
poorly-clad  man,  with  his  arm  in  a  sling,  and  lame  from 
a  bullet  in  his  knee.  He  was  pale,  and  seemed  to  suffer, 
yet  was  cheerful,  and  related  to  her  deeply  thrilHng 
stories  of  his  war  scenes  in  Mexico,  where  he  received 
the  wounds  which  now  disabled  him.  He  had  been  for 
some  months  in  a  hospital,  at  New  Orleans,  and  was  now 
just  returning  to  his  family,  after  two  years'  absence,  and 
moneyless.  At  the  inn,  at  Columbia,  he  alighted  with 
difficulty,  and  appeared  so  ill  that  Isabel  told  the  land- 
lord that  if  he  would  send  for  a  physician,  and  have  him 
well  attended  to,  she  would  be  responsible.  Isabel  was 
then  driven  to  the  elegant  residence  to  which  she  was 
going  on  a  visit.  After  tea,  she  took  a  bundle  of  com- 
forts, and  in  her  friend's  carriage  drove  to  the  inn, 
sought  out  the  old  soldier,  who  was  very  sick  in  bed, 
bathed  his  temples,  and  even  assisted  the  doctor  in  ban- 
daging his  arm.  She  remained  nursing  him  two  hours, 
and  then  left  money  to  hire  an  attendant.  After  an 
illness  of  a  week,  every  day  of  which  saw  Isabel  at  his 
bedside,  the  old  white-headed  soldier  recovered  so  as  to 
pursue  his  journey,  his  expenses  paid  from  the  purse 
of  this  benevolent  and  generous  girl,  who  is  as  good  as 
she  is  brave  and  beautiful.  How  few  girls  of  seventeen 
would  have  thought  a  second  time  of  the  old  soldier 


152  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

after  leaving  him  at  the  inn  !  When  Isabel  was  asked 
by  a  fashionable  friend,  "how  she  could  do  so?"  she  an- 
swered like  a  true  Tennessee  girl,  "  Soldiers  fight  the  bat- 
tles of  our  country,  and  the  least  we  can  do  is  to  cherish 
them  in  their  helplessness,  and  bind  up  their  wounds. 
Every  true  American  woman,  who  loves  her  country  and 
the  defenders  of  its  glory  and  honor,  would  have  done  as 
I  did." 

Her  father  heard  this  spirited  yet  modest  reply,  and 
taking  her  in  his  arms,  he  kissed  her  on  both  cheeks, 
and  smiling  with  pride  called  her  a  "true  soldier's 
daughter." 

A  letter  came  this  morning  from  the  old  man,  to  Isabel, 
and  every  line  is  gloAving  with  praise  of  her,  and  warm 
with  grateful  words — though  some  of  them  are  spelled 
wrong.  But  the  heart  has  little  heed  of  orthography. 
I  know  a  lady  who  always  slips  in  her  spelling,  when 
she  writes  a  letter  under  any  deep  emotion.  I  do  not  go 
80  far  as  a  certain  matter  of  fact,  but  warm  hearted 
doctor,  whose  early  education  had  not  been  done  full 
justice  to,  whose  maxim  was  "  correct  spelling  and  a  cool 
head  go  together  ;  but  a  warm  heart  don't  stop  to  pick 
letters."  If  the  old  soldier  had  not  written  so  heartily, 
therefore,  it  is  very  likely,  we  see,  that  his  orthography 
might  have  been  less  erratic. 

You  recollect  that  I  alluded  to  a  Bengal  tiger,  in  my 
last.  I  have  quite  an  incident  to  relate  of  which  he  was 
the  hero,  and  I  one  of  the  heroines,  alas  !  a  poor  heroine 
you  will  say  when  you  hear  the  story. 

Three  days  ago,  the  colonel,  Isabel,  and  I,  were  invited 
to  spend  the  day  and  dine  at  the  plantation  of  Mr.  Henry 
Elliott,  the  gentleman  who  is  husband  to  our  riding  sea- 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  153 

captain's  sister.  After  half  an  hour's  delightful  drive  in 
the  carriage,  along  a  picturesque  road,  with  a  brawling 
brook  on  one  side",  running  at  even  pace  with  the  horses, 
and  woods  and  rocks  overhanging  on  the  other,  we 
reached  the  tasteful,  English-looking  mansion  which  was 
to  terminate  our  drive. 

After  dinner,  while  Isabel  was  standing  by  a  marble 
table,  looking  over  a  superb  copy  oi  Boydell's  Shaks- 
peare,  by  her  side,  Harry  Elliott,  a  handsome  young 
collegian,  at  home  on  vacation,  admiring  her  rather  than 
the  pictures  to  which  she  was  drawing  his  attention,  and 
while  I  was  seated  in  a  lounge,  reading  Simms'  last  novel 
to  Mrs.  Elliott;  and  the  colonel,  and  "the  captain,"  and 
our  host  were  smoking  their  cigars  on  the  front  portico, 
suddenly,  with  a  bound  as  noiseless  as  that  of  a  cat,  the 
Bengal  tiger  entered  through  an  open  window,  and 
pounced  into  the  drawing  room.  Mrs.  Elliott  sprung  to 
her  feet,  and  pointed  in  speechless  horror  at  the  terrible 
and  beautiful  creature,  as  it  stood  for  a  moment  where 
it  touched  the  soft  carpet,  and  gazed  slowly  and  fear- 
lessly around  as  if  selecting  its  victim  from  one  of  us. 
Isabel  and  her  young  friend  had  not  yet  seen  him,  their 
backs  being  towards  the  window.  As  for  poor  me,  I  sat 
like  a  statue,  motionless  and  without  power  of  motion. 
The  blood  froze  in  my  veins  !  I  caught  the  glittering 
eyes  of  the  tiger,  and,  for  an  instant,  was  fascinated  ; 
and  I  do  not  know,  if  he  had  not  turned  away  his  look 
with  dignified  contempt,  that  I  should  not  have  risen  up 
and  advanced  irresistibly,  like  a  charmed  bird  towards 
the  serpent.  He  moved  a  step,  crouching.  I  looked  at 
Mrs.  Elliott.  I  saw  courage  coming  into  her  eyes,  and 
she  said  to  me,  whispering,  "  If  I  catch  his  eye,  I  can 


154  THE  SUNNY  south;  or, 

detain  and  cower  him."  But  ere  she  could  catch  it,  the 
tiger  advanced  three  fearful  bounds,  and  then  Isabel,  for 
the  first  time,  beheld  him !  Harry  Elliott  no  sooner 
saw  him,  than  he  laid  one  hand  on  the  wrist  of  Isabel, 
who  seemed  to  gaze  more  with  wonder  than  with  fear 
upon  the  mottled  Bengalese,  and  pointed  with  the 
other  to  the  piano. 

"  To  the  piano,  Isabel !  Play,  quickly  !  Music,  or 
he  will  do  mischief — music,  quickly!" 

The  tiger  now  slowly  sunk  down  couchant  upon  the 
carpet,  and  I  could  see  him  unsheath  his  curved  white 
claws,  and  his  eyes  burned  as  if  fires  were  kindled  in 
their  orbs.  He  seemed  about  to  spring  upon  Henry, 
who  fixed  his  gaze  resolutely  upon  him  with  a  courage  I 
could  not  but  admire,  terrified  as  I  was  at  such  a  draw- 
ing-room companion.  My  fears  were  not  lessened  by  the 
recollection,  which  just  then  came  upon  me,  that  I  had 
been  told  that  day  as  one  of  the  feats  of  the  "  captain's 
pet"  that  he  would  snap  oflf  a  cat's  head  at  a  bite,  and 
make  nothing  of  it.  I  always  knew  my  head  was  small, 
and  I  felt  that  it  was  now  smaller  than  ever.  The  hor- 
rid creature  gaped  all  at  once,  as  if  to  increase  my 
apprehensions,  and  I  was  now  certain  he  would  make  as 
sure  of  my  head  as  a  guillotine  would  do  it. 

Isabel  glided  backward,  pale  as  snow,  and  as  cold, — 
glided  backward,  step  by  step,  so  as  not  to  seem  to  re- 
treat, and  reached  the  piano.  Running  her  icy,  cold 
fingers  over  the  keys  in  a  fearfully  brilliant  prelude,  she 
commenced  a  superb  cavalry  march, — a  new  Hungarian 
piece — with  a  world  of  war  music  in  it.  The  tiger,  as 
soon  as  she  began  to  play,  rose  from  his  crouching  atti- 
tude, and  moved  with  a  sedate  step  to  the  piano,  and 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  155 

took  his  stand  bj  Isabel,  and  so  near  that  her  snowy 
arm,  as  she  reached  to  the  distant  keys,  -would  nearly 
touch  his  glossy  shoulder.  We  were  as  still  as  death! 
We  began  to  have  faith  in  the  music,  seeing  that  he  no- 
ticed it  in  so  marked  a  manner,  for  he  stood  as  if  listen- 
ing, charmed. 

White  as  a  Medician  statue,  yet  Isabel  played  on.  I 
expected  each  instant  to  see  her  fall  from  the  music 
stool,  or  pause  in  pure  terror,  when  I  felt  confident  the 
fangs  of  the  terrible  creature  would  be  buried  in  her 
bosom.  Yet  we  dared  not  give  the  alarm !  The  voices 
of  the  three  gentlemen  could  be  heard  on  the  gallery,  yet 
we  feared  to  call  for  aid  lest  we  should  draw  the  tiger  to 
spring  upon  us.  So  silent,  and  nearly  dead  with  awful 
fear,  we  waited  the  issue,  trusting  to  Providence,  or  the 
music,  for  a  diversion  in  our  favor. 

Henry  Elliott,  in  the  meanwhile,  leaving  Isabel  play- 
ing, stole  out  of  the  room,  unseen  by  the  tiger,  and 
reaching  the  portico,  made  known  to  the  gentlemen,  in 
scarcely  articulate  words,  the  state  of  affairs  in  the 
drawing  room.  Mr.  Elliott  would  have  run  for  his  rifle, 
and  the  colonel  was  calling  for  pistols,  when  the  captain, 
motioning  for  them  both  to  preserve  silence,  hastened  to 
the  scene  of  danger.  When  I  saw  him  enter  I  felt  inex- 
pressibly relieved,  for  I  believed  in  him  that  he  could 
help  us.  He  moved  noiselessly  across  the  room,  and 
coming  round  at  the  end  of  the  piano,  he  faced  the 
animal,  and  bending  his  glance  upon  him,  he  caught  the 
glittering  eye  of  the  tiger  full  with  his  own !  The  effect 
of  his  fixed  and  commanding  gaze  upon  him  was  won- 
derful. The  monster  gradually  dropped  his  body  upon 
his  haunches,  and  sank  c[uietly  into  an  attitude  of  sub- 


156  THE  suNXY  south;  or, 

mission  at  Isabel's  feet.  The  captain  then  placed  himself 
at  a  bound  between  her  and  the  animal,  and  grasping 
him  by  his  jaw,  he  spoke  to  him  in  a  tone  so  absolute 
and  bold,  that  he  rose  and  suffered  himself  to  be  led  out 
of  the  room  like  a  hound,  and  locked  up  in  his  cage  in 
the  poultry  yard.  He  had  no  sooner  disappeared  than 
Isabel,  who  had  not  ceased  to  play,  dropped  to  the  floor, 
but  half-arrested  in  her  fall  by  her  father's  embracing 
arm.  Mrs.  Elliott  fainted  outright.  As  for  myself,  I 
did  nothing  but  cry  for  half  an  hour,  I  was  so  happy  we 
had  all  escaped  so  well.  Even  the  courageous  Harry's 
voice  trembled  two  hours  afterwards  when  he  was  con- 
gratulating me  on  my  escape. 

And  was  it  not  an  escape,  Mr. ?     To  be  called 

upon  by  a  gentleman  tiger,  and  only  saved  from  being 
eaten  up  by  him  by  treating  his  lordship  Avith  music.  It 
appeared,  on  inquiry,  that  the  captain  had  let  his  "pet" 
out  for  air,  and  tied  him  to  a  chestnut  tree  that  stands 
in  the  centre  of  the  yard,  from  which  freeing  himself, 
he  had  taken  the  liberty  of  bounding  into  the  parlor, 
through  the  window  which  opens  directly  upon  the  lawn. 

•You  may  be  sure,  we,  and  Mrs.  Elliott  in  particular, 
gave  the  captain  a  good  rating  for  bringing  such  a  pet 
into  a  peaceable  neighborhood,  frightening  young  ladies 
out  of  their  senses.  Mrs.  Elliott  roundly  informed  her 
brother  that  the  monster  must  be  shot,  or  she  should  not 
sleep  a  wink  all  night  for  thinking  he  might  get  into  the 
bed-room. 

The  captain,  who  had  been  terribly  alarmed  at  our 
perilous  situations,  promised  he  should  be  shot,  but  said 
he  could  not  have  the  heart  to  be  the  death  of  his  old 
friend.     It  was  decided   that  the  negro  driver  of  the 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT  HOME.  157 

estate  should  kill  him,  but  the  black  objected  from  some 
superstitious  feeling,  when  Harry  Elliott  proposed  that 
he  should  be  turned  loose  in  the  forest  and  hunted  down ! 
This  proposition,  so  promising  of  a  new  kind  of  sport  in 
the  way  of  Western  hunting,  was  warmly  accepted,  and 
would,  no  doubt,  have  been  carried  out,  if  some  one  had 
not  started  the  objection  that  he  might  not  be  easily  shot 
in  the  chase,  and  if  left  to  roam  the  park,  might  do  some 
fatal  mischief.  Whereupon,  Mr.  Elliott  went  out  and 
shot  the  handsome,  wild  brute  through  the  head,  with  a 
rifle,  at  five  paces.  The  captain  would  not  see  the  deed 
done,  and  remaining  in  the  house,  jammed  his  fingers  in 
his  ears,  to  shut  out  the  report  of  the  gun  that  sealed  the 
fate  of  his  friend.  The  poor  tiger  died  instantly,  and 
we  all  went  out  to  look  at  him  as  he  lay  on  the  green 
grass,  now  quite  harmless,  yet  looking  strong  and  terrible 
in  death.  He  was  a  beautiful  fellow,  with  the  glossiest, 
silkiest  hide,  barred  and  spotted  brown  and  black.  The 
captain  says  it  shall  be  made  into  housings  for  Isabel's 
saddle  and  mine.  Moreover,  he  has  given  me  two 
monkeys  and  a  superb  bird  of  paradise,  his  sister,  Mrs. 
Elliott,  having  been  made  so  nervous  by  the  late  tiger 
adventure,  pointedly  refusing  to  have  any  more  of  the 
outlandish  citizens  of  earth  or  air  on  her  premises.     Two 

monkeys,  Mr. !     And  merry,  ugly,  little  men  they 

are,  wrinkled  as  a  negro  a  hundred  years  old,  and  mis- 
chievous as  two  imps  satanic.  They  are  both  with  chains 
round  their  bodies,  fastened  one  at  one  pillar  and  another 
at  another  pillar  of  the  gallery,  so  that  they  can  run  up 
and  down  at  pleasure,  and  all  the  little  "miniature 
humans"  do,  is  to  take  their  pleasure. 

They  have  done  nothing  all  day  but  eat  nuts  and  cakes, 


158  THE    SUNNY   SOUTH ;    OR, 

mow  and  chat  together,  and  make  faces  at  the  negroes. 
The  old  slaves  seem  to  look  upon  them  with  an  evil  eye 
and  a  spice  of  fear.  Our  old  African  says  they  are 
"Goobah — no  good — hab  old  one  in 'em!"  The  young 
fry  among  the  blacks — the  little  niggers — go  mad  with 
delight  at  witnessing  their  pranks,  wonder  at  their  having 
tails,  and  seem  to  regard  them  as  in  some  sort  cousin- 
germans  of  their  own  race,  mysteriously  tailed,  an  addi- 
tion which  they  evidently  look  upon  with  envy.  My 
magnificent  bird  of  paradise  has  a  disagreeable  voice, 
like  a  creaking  cart  wheel,  and  yet  his  plumage  is  splendid 
beyond  description !  With  all  his  prismatic  glory,  the 
little  brown  mocking-bird  that  sings  under  my  window 
half  the  night  long,  by  moonlight,  is  worth  a  score  of 
them.  The  eye  soon  wearies  with  the  monotony  of 
beauty,  but  the  ear  never  with  the  harmony  of  sound. 

Yours  respectfully, 

Kate. 


THE   SOUTHEKNER  AT   HOME.  159 


LETTER    XX. 


Dear  Mr. : 

Did  you  ever  go  a  fishing  ?  If  you  have  not,  I  ad- 
vise you  to  buy  a  rod  and  line,  and  start  brookward  on 
such  an  adventure;  if  you  have  been,  you  will  know 
how  to  appreciate  my  happiness  yesterday,  when  I  tell 
you  that  I  spent  it  in  fishing !  Early  in  the  morning  my 
Afric  maid,  Eda,  stole  softly  by  my  bedside,  and  waking 
me  gently,  as  if  half  afraid  she  should  wake  me,  reminded 
me  that  "we  were  all  to  go  fishing  to-day."  I  was  soon 
dressed  in  my  stout  pongee  habit,  which  I  wear  when  I 
go  into  the  forests,  and  which  just  fits  my  figure.  Eda 
brought  me  a  broad-brimmed  leghorn,  which  I  put  on, 
with  the  brim  flapping  over  my  eyes,  and  shading  me 
like  an  umbrella, — a  sort  of  man's  hat,  which  the 
colonel's  care  for  our  "fair  complexions"  had  provided 
for  both  Bel  and  me.     I  also  wore  a  pair  of  masculine 

boots;    real  Wellingtons,  Mr.  ,  but  made   of  the 

softest  calf-skin,  and  setting  to  the  foot  like  a  glove. 
The  high  heels  added  full  an  inch  and  a  half  to  my  sta- 
ture, whereat  I  was  not  a  little  vain.  Upon  descending 
to  the  hall,  I  found  Isabel  all  ready,  in  man's  hat  and 
boots,  and  a  jockey  looking  tunic  of  green  cloth,  elegantly 
embroidered  over  the  bust,  to  which  it  was  charmingly 
confined  by  a  broad,  glazed,  black  belt,  "clipping  the 
slender  waist,"  and  secured  by  a  silver  buckle.     Her 


160  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

small  feet  looked  perfectly  bewitching  in  her  huzzar-like 
boots,  and  she  wore  her  sombrero  with  such  a  dashing, 
don't-I-look-like-a- very -pretty -boy  air,  a  little  tipped 
over  her  left  ear,  that,  with  her  fine  Spanish  eyes  and 
expressive  face,  she  looked  bewitching  enough  to  fall  in 
love  with. 

How  is  it,  good  Mr.  ,  that  pretty  girls  always 

become  additionally  attractive  in  masculine  costume?  A 
woman  never  looks  so  young  as  in  her  riding  costume, 
and  for  the  reason  that  it  is  partly  copied  from  the  dress 
of  the  other  sex.  And  have  you  never  been  struck  with 
the  youthful  look  a  boy's  hat,  worn  upon  the  side  of  the 
head  of  a  woman  of  thirty  years  old  imparts  to  her,  giv- 
ing to  her  face  the  juvenility  of  a  handsome  lad  of  six- 
teen? Solve  me  this  mystery,  sir  Editor,  for  editors 
are,  of  course,  supposed  to  be  able  to  solve  everything ! 

The  colonel  was  in  his  brown  linen  hunting  coat,  with 
six  pockets  therein  and  thereabouts.  Having  compli- 
mented us  upon  our  good  looks  and  becoming  costume, 
he  escorted  us  to  the  room,  where  a  nice  hot  breakfast  was 
awaiting  us.  After  a  hearty  meal,  partaken  of  in  high, 
good  spirits,  we  prepared  to  mount  our  ponies.  Two 
servants  Avere  already  in  attendance  upon  the  gallery; 
one  of  them  with  long  rods,  for  each  of  us,  full  twenty 
feet  in  length,  with  hair  lines  neatly  affixed,  and  boxes 
of  bait — writhing  ground  worms !  The  other  was  laden 
with  a  basket  of  provisions,  nicely  covered  with  a  snow- 
white  napkin,  in  spite  of  which,  peeped  out  the  red-waxed 
neck  of  a  claret  bottle,  and  also  there  was  just  visible 
the  wire-tied  cork  of  a  champagne  bottle !    But  don't  tell 

the  temperance  people,  Mr. !    You  know,  or  if  you 

don't  know,  you  know  now,  that  nobody  can  go  fishing 


THE   SOUTHERXER   AT   HOME.  161 

without  such  mystic  appurtenances  in  the  dinner-basket — 
at  least  in  these  parts.  All  being  a-saddle,  and  in  high 
pulse,  we  started  on  our  expedition  to  war  against  the 
innocent  fishes.  We  proceeded  in  the  following  order. 
First,  astride  a  half-broken  colt,  as  shaggy  as  a  bear, 
rode  a  young  negro  urchin  in  a  torn  straw  hat,  and  with 
naked  feet.  He  was  pioneer  to  open  the  several  gates 
that  lay  in  our  road  across  the  plantation.  Next  rode 
the  colonel,  smoking  a  cigar,  and  gaily  talking  with  Isa- 
bel and  myself  upon  the  probability  of  our  being  joined 
by  the  "tiger  captain"  and  young  Harry  Elliott  at  the 
Seven  Oaks,  and  questioning  whether  the  former  could 
be  prevailed  upon  to  mount  a  horse !  Behind  us  came 
the  gray-headed  servant  who  carried  the  basket  and  bait, 
mounted  upon  a  horse  as  venerable  as  himself,  and 
whose  ribbed  sides  he  ceaselessly  thumped  with  his  two 
heels,  keeping  time  thereat  with  every  step  made  by  his 
Eozinante.  He  was  followed  by  black  John,  so  called 
to  distinguish  him  from  another  John  on  the  estate,  who 
is  not  quite  so  dead  a  black  as  the  '■^  black  John."  He 
rode  a  sober,  long-eared  mule,  and  carried  the  slender 
fishing  rods  on  his  shoulder,  which  as  he  trotted,  bent 
with  the  motion  like  whale-bone.  The  mule  had  an  odd 
fashion  of  throwing  out  his  left  hind  leg  at  every  third 
step,  which  created  a  rolling  motion  to  his  rider,  that 
was  infinitely  ludicrous. 

What  a  merry  ride  we  all  had!  The  colonel  sang, 
and  his  manly  voice  made  the  old  woods  ring  again. 
Isabel  laughed  to  listen  to  the  laughing  echo,  and  I 
shouted!  The  Africans  were  delighted  in  our  delight, 
and  laughed  after  their  fashion,  and  the  little  ragamuffin 
Peter,  our  gate  opener,  who  always  takes  liberties,  and 
11 


16^2  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

is  notably  saucy,  -whooped  and  turned  somersets  on  his 
pony's  back  from  excess  of  animal  spirits. 

Three  miles  from  the  house  we  crossed  the  turnpike 
road  -which  leads  to  Nashville.  A  stage  coach  -was  going 
by  at  the  time,  and  the  passengers  looked  at  us  -with 
hard  curiosity,  and  seemed  to  be  amused  at  the  appear- 
ance of  our  motley  cavalcade,  the  rear  of  which  I  ought 
to  have  said  was  brought  up  by  three  dogs,  one  of  whom 
was  a  majestic  full-blooded  Newfoundland.  Not  far  be- 
hind the  stage,  came  a  handsome  traveling  carriage,  from 
the  window  of  which  a  gentleman  hailed  the  colonel.     As 

we  rode  up  he  was  presented  to  us  as  a  General  P , 

one  of  the  most  distinguished  officers  whose  valor  in 
Mexico  elevated  the  military  glory  of  our  Republic. 
After  some  conversation  we  separated,  he  to  drive  on  to 
his  princely  estate,  a  few  leagues  southward,  we  to  enter 
the  forests  and  wind  our  way  to  the  stream.  Half  a 
mile  from  the  pike  we  came  to  the  Seven  Oaks,  a  noble 
group  of  forest  trees  standing  by  themselves  in  an  open 
area,  where  several  woodland  roads  meet.  We  had  hardly 
reached  it  when  the  colonel  shouted — 

"Here  they  come!    Voild  the  captain." 

Looking  in  the  direction  he  indicated,  we  beheld  Henry 
Elliott  riding  by  the  side  of  an  old  doctor's  sulky,  in 
which  was  harnessed,  a  tall,  long-bodied  steed,  which  as 
it  drew  nearer,  proved  to  be  stone-blind.  At  first  we 
could  not  distinguish  whom  the  ark-like  vehicle  contained, 
but  a  loud  shout  to  us  like  Neptune  hailing  a  war-ship  in 
a  high  wind,  left  us  in  no  doubt  as  to  the  personality  of 
the  occupant.  Harry,  mounted  on  a  superb  hunter,  and 
dressed  with  picturesque  effect,  but  without  foppishness, 
which  he  is  too  handsome  and  sensible  to  be  guilty  of,  on 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  168 

discovering  us  left  his  companion  and  galloped  forward 
to  join  us.  How  superbly  he  rode !  yet  with  the  ease 
and  natural  attitude  of  a  Comanche  chief.  He  was 
laughing  as  he  came  on,  and  well  might  he  laugh. 

The  sulky  was  shrieking  in  anguish  at  every  revolu- 
tion of  its  rattling  wheels ;  the  horse  reared  behind  and 
pitched  before  with  a  double-jointed,  spasmodic  locomotion, 
that  shook  the  captain  from  his  seat  within  at  every  jerk. 
The  vehicle,  the  horse,  the  sulky,  and  the  wheels  had 
each  a  several  and  independent  motion  of  progression, 
which  four  being  combined,  produced  a  compound  move- 
ment of  the  whole,  unlike  any  thing  on  the  earth,  or  un- 
der the  earth,  or  in  the  sea.  We  all  shouted!  The 
captain  reached  us  and  then  tried  to  stop  his  headway; 
but  the  ancient  horse  had  an  iron  jaw  calloused  by  long 
use,  that  no  bit  would  twist  or  hurt,  and  it  was  plainly 
apparent  that,  once  under  weigh,  and  propelled  by  the 
complex  motions  of  the  entire  machinery,  he  could  not 
stop  if  he  would. 

"'Vast  heaving  ahead!  LuflF! — Luff  you  beast!" 
shouted  the  captain,  with  stentorian  energy,  as  he  was 
passing  us,  pulling  at  the  reins.  "This  land  craft  is  the 
crankiest  clipper  I  ever  g-g-got  a-a-bo-ar-d-d  of!"  cried 
he,  the  last  words  being  jolted  out  of  him  by  one  of 
the  four  motions.  "'Vast  there  and  heave  to!  What 
an  infer-fer-na-nal  sea  is  running! — Co-co-co-co-col-on- 
n-el,  heave  us  a  rope !  Bear  a  hand  here,  some  of  you 
darkies,  or  I  shall  soon  be  hull  down  and  out  o'  sight  to 
leeward !" 

The  colonel  rode  ahead  of  the  blind  and  still  des- 
perately-plunging-forward animal,  and   had   no  sooner 


164  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

touched  his  head  lightly  with  his  whip  than  he  stood 
stock  still. 

"Thank'ee,  colonel,  thank'ee,"  said  the  old  seaman, 
as  he  scrambled  over  the  wheel  to  the  ground;  "that 
craft  is  the  hardest  thing  I  ever  steered!  Catch  me 
aboard  of  one  of  your  land  craft  again,  if  I  can  help  it ! 
You  see  this  mad-cap  nephew  of  mine  wanted  to  tempt 
me  to  ride  a  horse;  but  I  have  had  enough  of  that. 
Don't  laugh,  girls, — but  it  is  true.  So,  cruising  about 
the  stables,  I  run  athwart  this  old  lugger,  stowed  high 
and  dry,  and  covered  with  dust  and  cobwebs.  Elliott 
said  it  had  belonged  to  a  doctor  who  once  lived  at  the 
plantation,  and  it  was  now  condemned  as  unseaworthy. 
JBut  so  long  as  it  didn't  leak,  and  the  spars  were  sound, 
I  didn't  care.  So  I  had  her  hauled  out  into  the  stream, 
her  old  rigging  overhauled,  and  this  blind  horse  o'  my 
own  choosing,  out  of  a  score  o'  faster  and  better  ones  to 
tow  it  along.  And  here  you  see  me,  with  my  innards 
shook  out,  because  I  forgot  to  put  ballast  aboard  to  keep 
her  trim ;  and  then,  for  yawing  wide  before  the  wind,  I 
never  saw  the  equal  of  that  blind  beast ;  and  as  for  short- 
ening sail  or  coming-to  off  port,  he  doesn't  know  what 
that  means." 

We  all  enjoyed  the  captain's  professional  account  of 
his  voyage,  and,  as  the  stream  was  yet  a  mile  off,  we  set 
forward,  the  captain  once  more  aboard  his  land  craft,  but 
with  the  precaution  of  having  one  of  the  negro  men  lead 
the  blind  horse  along,  with  his  hand  on  his  head-stall. 
Relieved  "by  this  towing,"  as  he  termed  it,  from  the 
direct  command  of  the  vessel,  the  captain  lighted  a 
cigar,  lolled  along  and  smoked  as  well  as  he  could  for 


THE   SOUTHEKNER   AT   HOME.  165 

the  rough  sea  produced  by  the  resumption  of  the  quadru- 
plex  motion  of,  the  whole  apparatus. 

We  at  length  reached  the  creek,  though  Isabel  and 
Harry  were  somehow  loiterers,  and  always  were,  somehow, 
on  such  occasions,  and  did  not  come  up  till  we  had 
alighted.  What  a  delightful  spot  it  was  where  we  stopped 
to  prepare  for  our  sport !  Mighty  trees  overshadowing 
us,  a  limpid  stream  eighty  feet  wide  at  our  feet,  its  clear 
Avaters  sparkling  over  snowy  sands,  and  gurgling  and 
rushing  around  and  between  gray  mossy  rocks  lying  in 
its  bed. 

Higher  up  was  a  waterfall,  with  a  constant  murmur, 
and  to  the  left  of  us  the  bank  receded,  leaving  a  dark, 
deep  pool,  in  the  depths  of  which,  the  darting  fish,  in 
their  silvery  armor,  gleamed  like  meteors  in  a  lower 
sky.  Just  where  we  alighted  was  a  verdant  carpet  of 
soft  thick  grass,  with  three  or  four  fine  old  rocks  scat- 
tered over  it  like  granite  lounges,  which  use  we  made 
of  three  of  them ;  the  fourth  having  a  shape  somewhat 
tabular,  being  converted  by  us  into  a  table  for  our  pic- 
nic dinner.  Altogether,  the  place  was  romantic,  secluded, 
and  still,  and  would  have  delighted  dear  good  Izaak  Wal- 
ton, whose  shade  we  invoked  as  we  prepared  our  lines 
for  the  sport !  Sport !  ah,  poor  Pisces !  what  was  to 
be  sport  to  us,  was  death  to  you !     But  so  goes  life, 

Mr. ;  one  half  of  God's  creatures,  both  brute  and 

intelligent,  pursue  their  pleasure  at  the  expense  of  the 
other  half. 

The  tiger-captain  attached  himself  assiduously  to  me 
for  the  day,  no  doubt  seeing  that  Isabel  was  Avell  provided 
for  in  young  Elliott's  devoted  attentions,  and  taking  pity 
upon  a  lonely  demoiselle.     He  taught  me  how  to  cut 


166  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

bullets  half  through,  and  affix  them  to  the  line  for  sinkers ; 
he  gave  me  a  lesson  in  making  and  fitting  a  quilled  cork ; 
initiated  me  into  the  mysteries  of  "bending  on  a  hook," 
which  good  Mrs.  Partington  could  do,  as  it  is  done  by 
knitting  stitches  upon  the  shaft,  as  one  would  upon  a 
needle ;  and  he  gave  me  a  horrid  lesson  in  the  art  of 
scientifically  putting  a  worm  upon  the  hook.  The  squirmy 
creatures,  how  they  did  curl  about  my  fingers  !  yet  I  was 
afraid  to  incur  the  captain's  contempt  by  even  shrieking 
or  throwing  them  from  me.  But  isn't  it  a  cruel  murder, 
sir,  to  cut  in  three  sections  a  living  worm,  and  then 
thread  longitudinally  your  barbed  hook  with  one  of  the 
soft,  cold,  twisting  pieces  ?  But  a  lady  who  goes  a  fish- 
ing with  a  sea-captain  who  has  tigers  for  pets,  must  have 
no  nerves.  I  found  the  captain  an  admirable  instructor. 
He  showed  me  where  to  find  the  deep  pools,  and  how  to 
cast  my  line  thirty  feet  outwardly  at  a  sweep,  without 
bungling  or  lodging  it  in  the  branches  overhead.  He 
instructed  me  how  to  watch  the  little  green  and  red 
painted  cork,  and  how  to  spring  the  line  when  it  bobbed 
under — in  a  word,  he  proved  a  valuable  comrade  for  a 
tyro  in  fishing  like  me,  and  an  unexceptionable  beau, 
except  when  I  once  let  a  large  trout  drag  my  hook,  line, 
pole,  and  all  out  of  my  grasp,  and  dart  away  with  it 
down  the  stream  like  a  rocket,  when  he  "  made  a  great 
Bwear,"  as  I  heard  an  Indian  say  of  another  great  per- 
sonage. With  this  nautical  exception,  the  tiger-captain 
was  a  delightful  companion  on  a  fishing  picnic. 

After  three  or  four  hours  of  various  successes,  during 
which  some  eighty -five  fish  were  caught  by  the  whole 
party,  negroes  included,  one  of  the  servants  announced, 
*'Pic-nic  ready,  Massas  and  Misseses  !" 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  167 

As  the  captain  and  I,  after  winding  up  our  lines,  has- 
tened to  the  spot,  I  passed  the  little  negro  Pete  squatted 
on  a  rock,  fishing,  holding  a  huge  sti/sk  for  a  pole,  with 
twine  for  line,  and,  for  bait-box,  the  captain  said  that  he 
made  use  of  his  enormous  mouth,  which  he  kept  full  of 
live  worms  ready  for  use  !     Oh,  shocking,  Peter  ! 

It  took  some  time  to  find  Isabel  and  Harry,  who,  at 
length,  made  their  appearance  from  up  the  stream,  but 
with  only  three  fish  between  them.  I  suspect  they  passed 
their  time  so  pleasantly  in  each  other's  society,  that  they 
thought  little  of  the  little  fishes.  The  captain  rallied 
them  on  their  ill  luck,  and  made  them  both  blush.  We 
had  a  capital  feast  under  the  trees,  with  the  grass  for 
our  seats,  and  a  rock  for  our  table.  I  placed  a  chance 
copy  of  the  Picayune  before  me  for  a  table-cloth,  and 
thus,  reading  and  eating,  I  enjoyed  "  a  feast  of  rea- 
son," as  well  as  a  more  substantial  one.  We  had  ham, 
sandwiches,  pickles,  cold-chicken,  cold  broiled  pigeons, 
salad,  pic-nic  crackers,  Scotch  ale,  champagne,  and 
claret.  The  two  negro  men  waited  on  us  with  the  pre- 
cision and  etiquette  of  the  dining-room.  Our  horses,  and 
ponies,  and  mules,  picturesquely  tethered  around  us, 
cropped  the  grass,  or  stood,  meditating,  doubtless,  upon 
our  conduct,  our  laughter,  our  toasts,  our  uproarious  be- 
haviour, so  in  contrast  with  their  sedate  gravity,  which 
never  departs  from  its  propriety.  Especially  the  cap- 
tain's blind  horse  looked  melancholy  and  lonely,  tied  to 
the  wheel  of  the  sulky,  with  a  basket  of  corn  hanging 
at  the  end  of  his  venerable  nose.  At  every  Borean 
burst  of  quarter-deck  laughter  from  the  captain,  he 
would  crop  his  overgrown  ears,  and  roll  his  white,  fishy- 
looking  eyes  about  as  if  in  bodily  apprehension. 


168  THE    SUNA'Y    SOUTH;    Oil, 

We  toasted,  in  lady-like  sips  of  the  iced  wine,  the 
President,  Henry  Clay,  Daniel  Webster,  and  Jenny  Lind, 
and,  in  silence,  drank  to  the  memory  of  the  warrior-sage 
of  the  Hermitage,  who  sleeps  not  many  hours'  ride  from 
where  we  were.  It  would  be  difficult  to  impress  persons 
out  of  Tennessee  with  the  veneration  with  which  the 
green  memory  of  the  Hero  of  New  Orleans  is  held  by  all 
Tennesseans.  Through  the  rolling  ages,  his  secluded 
tomb  will  be  the  fane  of  pilgrimage  for  the  sons  of  this 
state.  We  intend  shortly  to  pay  a  second  visit  to  the 
Hermitage,  of  which  I  will  give  you  an  account  after- 
wards. 

After  our  pic-nic  dinner  was  over,  the  table-rock  was 
vacated  to  the  servants,  and  the  gentlemen  laid  at  length 
on  the  grassy  bank,  smoked,  and  entertained  us  with 
stories. 

Kate. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  169 


LETTER   XXI. 

I  HAVE  had  a  mind  to  make  this  a  literary  "Needle" 
and  talk  book ;  for  I  have  lately  been  reading  so  many 
delightful  authors,  that,  like  the  busy  bee,  the  wings  of 
my  soul  are  laden  with  their  sweets,  and  I  must,  per 
force,  make  honey.  The  last  work  I  have  laid  down,  is 
"Emerson's  Representative  Men."  How  suggestive  is 
this  book!  How  it  teems  with  thought,  and  food  for 
thought!  How  deep  he  goes  down  into  the  being  of 
man,  and  how  he  walks  among  the  stars !  What  a  faculty 
he  has  for  putting  mind  into  type !  He  touches  nothing 
that  he  does  not  find  a  kernel  in  it,  where  most  other 
writers  and  thinkers  see  only  a  husk.  He  beholds  with 
the  eye  of  the  poet,  and  the  contemplation  of  the  sage, 
the  "splendor  of  meaning"  that  plays  over  the  visible 
world,  and  by  its  light,  he  looks  down,  down  into  the 
human  heart,  and  then  tells  us  with  terrible  strength  of 
word,  all  he  discovers  there!  We  tremble  before  the 
man  who  thus  boldly  drops  his  plumb-line  into  the  abyss 
of  our  being,  and  reports  to  us  its  depth. 

Mr.  Emerson  has  a  great  mind.  Grave  errors  of 
theory  he  has,  but  new  and  hitherto  untold  truths  so 
burn  in  his  pages,  that  his  discrepancies  are  lost  in  their 
light.  His  sentences  are  a  "carved  thought,"  every  one 
of  them.  He  uses  Avords  for  the  frame  work  of  his  pre- 
cious thoughts  with  the  economy  of  a  jeweler,  his  gold 


170  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

in  setting  precious  stones.  Every  page  is  an  intellec- 
tual pabulum  on  "which  the  intellect  of  a  man  may  be 
nourished.  He  sets  you  thinking,  and  thinking,  and 
thinking !  He  has  the  rare  talent  of  expressing  to  the 
eye  the  deep  and  unbroken  musings  of  the  spirit  of  man 
about  God,  about  Nature,  about  the  mystery  of  the  past, 
the  awe  of  the  future,  the  riddle  of  life,  the  infinitude  of 
the  Universe — musings  that  all  indulge,  but  never  impart 
the  secret  of  what  they  think.  Mr.  Emerson  puts  such 
twilight  and  star-light  thoughts  into  shape,  and  startles 
us  at  recognizing  them,  as  much  as  if  we  had  seen  our 
own  ghosts  rising  from  the  misty  emptiness  of  space! 
We  all  love  to  discover  that  our  own  speculations  upon 
the  m  stories  that  surround  us,  have  been  the  specula- 
tions of  another  mind;  and  if  that  other  mind  will  lead 
us  farther  than  we  have  gone,  we  follow  with  a  charmed 
awe,  confident  in  his  pilotage,  thongh  he  lead  us  into  the 
unfathomable ! 

Some  of  Mr.  Emerson's  propositions  and  opinions 
savour  of  Swedenborg,  of  Grecian  philosophy,  of  Jewish 
skepticism,  of  German  transcendentalism,  neither  of 
•which  by  itself  complete,  yet  in  combination  they  pro- 
duce a  synthetic  whole,  that  is  the  just  representative  of 
the  modern  mind  of  philosophy.  If  Mr.  Emerson  could 
only  combine  a  fifth  element  in  his  circle,  the  humble 
faith  of  the  New  Testament,  his  philosophy  would  be  in- 
destructible. How  so  great  a  mind  can  approach  so 
near  the  Cross  and  not  see  it,  and  be  dazzled  by  its 
glory,  is  to  me  a  cause  of  the  profoundest  marvel.  Aside 
from  this  radical  defect  in  his  philosophy,  his  book  is 
laden  with  the  richest  intellectual  ore  which  the  "v^ipc 
searcher  will  gath..,  and  know  how  to  free  from  the 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  171 

alloy.  Did  Mr.  Emerson  live  in  the  days  of  Plato,  he 
would  have  founded  an  Academy  of  Philosophy,  to  which 
the  youth  of  that  classic  land  would  have  flocked  to  learn 
wisdom!  -Why  do  not  our  learned  and  wise  men  now 
become  teachers  like  the  old  philosophers?  Such  a 
man  as  Emerson  might  crowd  his  rural  retirement  with 
intellectual  young  men,  and  establish  a  school  of  thought, 
that  would  produce  a  positive  efiect  upon  the  age. 

But  rather  let  oar  able  divines  become  such  teachers 
in  Christian  Philosophy,  such  men  as — but  I  Vrill  not 
give  the  names  that  come  to  my  pen,  lest  it  should  seem 
invidious ;  if  these  able  doctors  of  divinity  would  open 
their  homes,  they  would  be  filled  with  disciples.  If  emi- 
nent retired  physicians  would  receive  young  '^en  as 
discipuli,  how  many  would  avail  themselves  of  the  privi- 
lege !  If  retired  lawyers  and  statesmen  would  thus  be- 
come teachers  of  legal  and  political  philosophy,  how 
many  talented  youths  of  our  land  would  become  rivals 
for  these  inestimable  advantages !  Suppose  it  were  un- 
derstood that  Henry  Clay  (God  bless  him)  or  Daniel 
Webster  (all  honor  be  to  his  mighty  mind)  would,  the 
one  at  Ashland,  the  other  at  Marshfield,  receive  a  limited 
number  of  disciples,  to  instruct  them  in  "the  things  of 
their  wisdom,"  what  price  would  be  counted  by  ambitious 
young  Americans,  if  they  could  attain  to  the  honor  of 
sitting  at  their  feet?  Schools  of  politics  are  needed  in 
our  country,  where  statesmen  should  be  graduated ! 

Dear  me  !  Mr. ,  how  boldly  I  am  making  my  pen 

write!  Only  a  young  woman,  perhaps  I  ought  not  to 
touch  upon  such  weighty  matters ;  but  please  permit  me 
to  suggest  that  there  ought  to  be  a  Diplomatic  College 
at  Washington,  where  our  Foreigu -'Ministers,  Charges, 


172  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

&c.,  should  be  educated,  and  take  out  diplomas,  certify- 
ing their  qualifications  to  hold  those  important  positions, 
bj  the  incumbents  of  which  our  country  is  judged  by  all 
nations.  The  requisites  should  be  a  thorough  knowledge 
of  international  law,  of  the  elementary  principles  of  our 
Federal  Constitution,  and  those  of  the  thirty  States,  of 
the  history,  products,  resources,  and  commerce  of  the 
country,  the  history  of  political  parties,  and  the  internal 
operation  of  our  domestic  institutions.  Lastly,  as  a 
sine  qua  non,  they  should  write  and  speak  French 
fluently,  the  ignorance  of  which  in  nearly  all  our  foreign 
ministers  renders  them  incompetent,  and  often  ridicu- 
lous. 

There,  Mr. ,  I've  done  on  this  hobby. 

Another  book  I  have  been  reading  is  Dickens'  "  Cop- 
perfield."  I  do  not  read  novels  often,  nor  do  I  read 
them  ever  for  the  story  or  plot,  but  for  the  thoughts 
which  the  writer  may  string  upon  it.  Dickens'  stories 
seldom  have  any  but  the  most  indifferent  plots.  He 
never  invents  surprises,  but  writes  you  a  story  as  trans- 
parent as  gossamer.  Nobody  looks  for  plots  in  this 
charming  writer,  but  for  his  witty  sparklings,  his  quiet 
humor,  his  inimitable  sketches  of  character,  his  pic- 
tures of  every-day  people,  whom  we  afterwards  do  not 
so  much  seem  to  have  read  about  as  to  have  known. 
This  deficiency  of  plot,  which  characterizes  Dickens' 
stories,  and  their  wealth  of  original  ideas,  is  what  ren- 
ders young  people  somewhat  indifferent  to  reading  them, 
and  more  mature  heads  fond  of  them.  Like  Emerson, 
he  is  an  analyzer,  but  Emerson  builds  theories  on  what 
he  discovers,  while  Dickens  works  his  discoveries  into 
practical  life.     Like  Emerson,  in  his  knowledge  of  the 


*  THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  173 

springs  of  our  being,  Dickens  is  a  philosopher,  but 
rather  of  the  heart  than  of  the  intellect.  Emerson 
"will  unlock  the  abyss  and  unveil  to  us  the  foundations 
of  the  universe,  and  even  the  spirit-world  beyond.  Dic- 
kens will  take  us  to  these  beings,  and  make  us  know 
and  love  them.  Emerson  would  explain  the  temple ; 
Dickens  would  present  to  you  the  worshipers,  maid  and 
and  mother,  child  and  patriarch,  the  poor  widow  with 
her  mite,  and  the  haughty  Pharisee.  Emerson's  pen 
records  discoveries  in  the  world  of  thoughts ;  Dickens* 
pen  records  experiences  in  the  world  of  hearts. 

I  have  heard  of  the  death  of  Fanny  Osgood  with 
much  and  deep  sorrow.  She  was  a  bright  spirit,  with 
a  noble  nature  and  taste  cultivated  in  the  highest  de- 
gree. I  once  met  her,  and  the  remembrance  of  that 
interview,  short  as  it  was,  will  ever  be  fresh ;  my  only 
regret  was  the  feeling  that  I  had  not  known  her  inti- 
mately. If  she  had  lived,  for  she  has  fled  the  earth 
young,  she  would  have  done  great  deeds  with  her  pen. 
But  God  be  thanked,  there  is  a  world  of  reunion,  where 
death  will  no  more  intrude  his  severing  scythe,  where 
the  poet's  immortal  mind  shall  have  scope  measurable 
with  its  immortality. 

Kate. 


1T4  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH:    OR, 


LETTER    XXII. 

After  the  literary  letter  which  I  sent  you  last 
month,  you  will  no  doubt  feel  particularly  grateful  to 
my  learning,  if  it  will  dispense  with  such  lofty  writing 
in  future,  and  give  you  something  more  in  the  descrip- 
tive and  gossip  way.  It  isn't  every  day  I  get  my  head 
crammed  with  "book,"  but  when  I  do,  it  must  be  emp- 
tied ;  for,  as  you  have  before  been  informed  by  me,  my 
head  is  a  very  little  one,  and  won't  hold  a  whole  library. 
Having  relieved  its  fulness  in  my  last,  I  now  begin  per- 
fectly in  vacuo  (this  Latin  my  brother  taught  me)  to 
write  you,  solemnly  averring  to  you  that  I  havn't  read 
a  book  through  for  a  month.  This  epistle  will,  there- 
fore, be  about  what  1  have  seen,  and  of  that  of  which  I 
have  been  "a  part." 

Last  week  it  was  resolved,  after  several  days  of  doubt- 
ing and  of  deliberation,  that  we  would  all  go  and  spend 
a  couple  of  weeks  at  Beaver  Dam  Springs,  in  this  state, 
not  that  we  were  any  of  us  invalids,  but  as  all  our  neigh 
bors  had  gone  packing  either  to  the  North  or  some  of 
the  watering-places,  we  had  to  imitate  them,  in  self-de- 
fence, to  get  rid  of  the  loneliness  of  the  neighborhood. 
One  morning,  for  instance,  we  would  take  a  gallop  over 
to  Kenton  Hall,  only  to  be  told  that  "  ]\Iassa,  and  Missus, 
and  all  de  young  people  had  gone  to  de  Nort'."  Or,  in 
the  evening  we  would  canter  to  Bell  Park,  to  find  every 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  175 

soul  away,  and  the  noble  halls  in  charge  of  an  African 
housekeeper.  In  a  word,  the  country  was  deserted,  and 
as  one  might  as  well  be  out  of  the  world  as  out  of  the 
fashion  thereof,  the  order  was  at  length  given  for  mir 
departure  also. 

It  seemed  to  me  a  great  pity  to  quit  the  elegant  man- 
sion, and  beautiful  grounds,  and  sweet  retirement  of 
Overton  Park,  for  unknown  inconveniences  at  some  un- 
comfortable and  crowded  watering-place,  but  as  Isabel 
insisted  that  there  would  be  a  great  many  fine  beaux 
there,  and  dancing,  and  all  that,  I  was  reconciled  to  the 
change ;  for,  though  I  don't  care  much  about  beaux  till 
they  have  got  a  little  gray,  and  therefore  a  little  wisdom 
withal,  and  seldom  dance  except  with  the  colonel,  or  the 
tiger  captain,  at  a  parlor  reunion,  yet  I  knew  she  would 
be  very  happy  there,  and  so  I  turned  my  sighs  into 
smiles  for  her  sake,  and  went  cheerfully  to  work  packing. 

Mr. ,  did  you  ever  pack  a  trunk  ?     If  you  have  not, 

and  resolutely  intend  never  to  pack  one,  you  are  an  en- 
viable gentleman.  The  great  art,  especially  in  fixing 
away  for  the  springs,  is  to  cram  the  contents  of  four 
large  trunks  and  a  wardrobe  into  one  small  trunk ;  at 
least,  this  was  the  system  Isabel  and  I  went  to  work 
upon,  for  the  colonel  said,  very  positively,  that  we  must 
have  all  baggage  put  into  two  trunks,  for  the  traveling 
carriages  wouldn't  carry  any  more.  More  than  once  in 
our  stowing  processes  I  wished  for  the  aid  of  the  cotton- 
press,  and  believed,  at  last,  we  should  have  to  send  the 
trunk  to  the  gin,  to  be  placed  underneath  the  cotton- 
bale  screw,  in  order  to  consolidate  the  contents.  But, 
as  this  would  utterly  have  demolished  cologne  and  rose- 
water  bottles,  ruined  silks  and  lawns,  and  generally  and 


176  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OK, 

miscellaneously  annihilated  every  thing,  we  called  in 
two  stout  African  dames  from  the  laundry,  and,  making 
them  stand  together  upon  the  top,  we  caused  two  negro 
boys  to  draw  the  straps,  one  at  each  strap,  and  another 
to  watch  the  opportunity,  when  the  women  on  top  sprung 
up  in  order  to  make  the  cover  go  down,  to  turn  the  key 
in  the  lock.  But  the  eflForts  of  the  latter  were  entirely 
unsuccessful,  and  with  the  trunk  only  strapped  and  buc- 
kled by  the  extreme  ends,  we  pronounced  that  it  would 
do,  no  rogue  would  know  the  difference.  The  next 
question  was,  what  should  we  do  with  our  hats?  The 
colonel  had  forbidden  bandboxes,  and  yet  we  must  carry 
our  bonnets  in  some  way.  It  was  in  vain  the  colonel 
assured  us  we  should  have  no  need  of  bonnets  at  the 
springs.  We  did  not  know  what  might  happen,  and  de- 
termined to  take  them.  The  bandbox  finally  was  safely 
smuggled  under  the  feet  of  Phillip,  the  driver,  the  ham- 
mer-cloth scarcely  covering  it.  This  important  matter 
being  arranged,  we  took  an  early  breakfast,  and  set  forth 
on  our  journey,  which  was  to  occupy  us  two  days. 

You  should  have  seen  our  cavalcade,  Mr. .     Let 

me  describe  it  to  you.  First  and  foremost  rode  Charles, 
the  colonel's  intelligent  and  well-dressed  serving-man, 
well  mounted  on  a  serviceable  traveling  horse,  and  lead- 
ing by  the  bridle  his  master's  noble  battle-steed,  which 
he  still  keeps  as  his  favorite  riding-horse.  The  horse  is 
a  large,  finely-formed  animal,  and  with  his  gorgeous 
Spanish  saddle  half  covered  with  silver,  and  his  plated 
bridle,  half  of  which  was  massive  silver-chain,  he  moved 
on  his  way,  tossing  his  head,  and  stepping  off  as  if  he 
"  smelled  the  battle  afar  off."  Next  came  our  family 
coach,  a  large,  Philadelphia-built  carriage,  as  roomy  as 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  ITT 

one  could  wish,  with  drab  linings,  luxuriantly  soft,  broad, 
comfortable  seats,  that  one  could  almost  use  as  sofas. 
There  were  a  dozen  pockets  in  the  sides,  the  two  larger 
ones  crammed  for  the  occasion  with  books,  magazines, 
and  newspapers,  to  read  on  the  way,  when  we  should 
tire  of  each  other,  for  the  most  social  folks,  with  the 
most  praiseworthy  loquacity,  can't  always  talk  while 
ti'aveling.  One  of  the  others  was  charged  with  cakes, 
and  another  thoughtfully  teemed  with  peaches  and  ap- 
ples, the  foresight  of  the  careful  housekeeper,  who  had 
traveled  with  her  mistress  in  her  younger  days,  and 
knew  how  to  make  "white  folk  comfortable."  A  fifth, 
which  was  long  and  narrow,  was  neatly  packed  with 
cigars,  to  be  conveniently  in  reach  of  the  colonel,  the 
only  smoker  in  our  party ;  this  care  for  making  "  white 
folks  comfortable"  being  referable  to  the  attention  of 
Charles,  who  was  au  fait  in  all  things  appertaining  to 
his  master's  habits.  A  sixth  pocket,  in  the  front,  con- 
tains a  box  of  lucifer  matches,  to  light  the  cigars  with ; 
and  from  a  seventh  projected  the  brass  top  of  a  small 
spy-glass,  with  which  to  view  distant  prospects  as  we 
rode  through  the  country.  In  each  corner  swung  a  bril- 
liant feather  fan,  ready  for  our  use,  and  in  a  rack  over 
Isabel's  head  was  a  silver  cup  with  which  to  drink  from 
the  springs  or  running  brooks.  There  was  an  additional 
contrivance  to  the  carriage  I  have  never  seen  in  any 
other ;  this  was  an  arrangement  by  which  the  lower  half 
of  the  front  could  be  let  down  under  the  hammer-cloth, 
and  so  make  room  for  an  extension  of  the  feet  of  an  in- 
valid to  recline  at  length ;  a  luxury  that  the  indolence 
of  voluptuousness,  rather  than  the  comforts  of  indisposi- 
tion, originated.  Behind  our  carriage  rode  a  little  mu- 
12 


178  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OK, 

latto  of  fourteen,  who  is  taken  along  as  a  pupil  to  initiate 
him  into  the  mysteries  of  his  future  duties,  as  body-ser- 
vant to  the  colonel  when  Charles  grows  gray :  he  is  an 
intelligent  lad,  and  has  a  thirst  for  books  that  it  is  my 
delight  to  gratify,  and  it  is  amusing  to  witness  the  ex- 
pansion of  his  large,  handsome  eyes  at  every  new  idea 
his  little  books  give  him.  He  thinks  there  is  no  one 
like  Missy  Kate,  and  says  to  me  frequently:  "When 
you  get  marry.  Missy  Kate,  me  wait  on  you'  husband — 
me  love  b'long  to  you,  Missy." 

Beyond  being  in  the  possession — the  property  of  some- 
body/— the  born  slave  has  no  idea.  Like  the  beautiful 
daughters  of  Circassia,  who  look  forward  to  a  harem  as 
the  crowning  honor  of  their  sex,  and  the  completion  of 
their  happiness,  the  Afric  youths  in  slavery,  of  both 
sexes,  contemplate  only,  as  a  second  or  rather  their  first 
nature,  the  condition  of  servitude:  so  strong  are  habits 
and  the  influence  of  education.  The  little  fellow  is  in 
raptures  with  his  journey  and  at  every  thing  he  sees,  put- 
ting his  smiling  orange-tawny  face  round  the  corner  of 
the  coach  to  speak  to  me  in  the  window,  to  point  out  to  me 
something  strange  to  his  optics,  but  familiar  enough  to  ours. 

In  the  rear  of  the  carriage,  at  a  sufficient  distance  to 
avoid  our  dust,  and  not  to  lend  us  theirs,  rode  on  ambling 
nags  two  female  slaves,  one  of  them  Isabel's  maid,  who 
attends  her  every  where,  and  Edith,  who  has  been  in- 
stalled from  the  first,  as  my  factotum.  It  was  useless 
for  me  to  say  that  I  did  not  wish  to  take  her  along,  that 
I  could  do  without  her.  Go  she  must,  first  because  I 
should  need  her ;  secondly  she  wanted  to  go  and  have  the 
pleasure  of  the  trip;  and  thirdly,  Jane,  Isabel's  maid, 
uould  be  lonesome  without  her  companion  to  gossip  with; 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  179 

aud  servants  are  better  contented  when  they  are  together. 
So  I  had  my  maid.  They  were  both  dressed  in  well-fit- 
ting pongee  riding-dresses,  were  mounted  on  side-saddles ; 
and  at  the  horns  thereof  hung  the  neatly  tied  bundles  that 
contained  their  respective  wardrobes.  They  paced  along 
side  by  side  after  us,  as  merry  as  two  young  black  crows 
in  a  corn  field,  and  made  the  air  ring  with  their  mirthful 
and  not  unmusical  laughter;  for  musical  ever  are  the 
voices  of  the  dark  daughters  of  Afric ;  and  I  am  not  sur- 
prised to  hear  that  there  is  a  prima  donna  of  this  raco 
in  Paris,  filling  it  with  wonder  at  the  richness  of  her 
notes. 

I  can  name  half  a  score  of .  negresses,  on  the  estate  of 
the  Park,  whose  voices  are  charming,  and,  with  cultiva- 
tion, would  surprise  and  enchant  the  cultivated  listener. 

In  the  rear  of  these  two  "ladies,"  who  only  cease 
their  talk  with  each  other,  to  switch  up  their  nags,  comes 
the  coachman's  boy,  a  fat-faced,  oily,  saucy -lipped  son 
of  Ham,  black  and  brilliant  as  a  newly  japanned  boot. 
He  is  the  coachman's  page,  and  boy  of  all  work  about 
the  stable  and  horses ;  and  rubber-down  and  harnesser-up ; 
the  polisher  of  the  stable  plate  and  the  waterer  of  the 
horses;  for  your  true  "gentleman's  coachman,"  is  a  gen- 
tleman in  his  way,  and  there  are  the  "meaner  things" 
of  his  profession,  which  he  leaves  to  the  "  low  ambition" 
of  such  coarser  colored  clay  as  Dick.  (^In  a  word,  the 
theory  of  division  of  labor  is  completely  carried  out  into 
practical  working  system  on  a  southern  estate  with  its 
hundred  slaves)  The  carriage-driver  must  not  only  have 
his  deputy  ostler,  but  the  laundress  must  be  waited  on 
by  a  little  negress,  to  kindle  her  fires,  heat  her  irons, 
and  do  every  thing  that  the  dignity  of  the  "lady"  in 


180  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OK. 

question  deems  it  "  derogatorum"  for  her  to  put  her 
hands  to.  The  chief  washer-woman  has  from  two  to  four 
ebony  maids,  who  do  the  grosser  work  while  she  does 
the  "fancy  washing."  The  cook  must  have  a  strapping 
negress,  with  eyes  like  anthracite,  to  peel  and  pick;  a 
strapping  lad,  with  feet  like  two  copies  of  Mitchell's 
School  Atlas  for  breadth,  to  chop  the  wood,  bring  water, 
and  be  at  hand  whenever  he  is  wanted ;  and  two  or  three 
small  fry  to  catch  the  poultry,  turn  the  spit,  and  steal 
all  they  can.  The  gardener  has  his  aids;  the  "marm- 
nurse"  hers  to  tote  the  children;  the  housekeeper  hers; 
and  all  this  army  of  juveniles  are  thus  in  full  training  to 
take  the  places,  by-and-by,  of  those  to  whom  they  are 
appended. 

Thus  every  negro  child  is  brought  up  (educated  shall 
I  say?)  to  one  thing,  and  comes  to  understand  that  par- 
ticular branch  perfectly  by  the  time  it  gets  to  be  a  man 
or  a  woman,  hence  the  admirable,  the  perfect  servants, 
one  always  finds  on  a  well-regulated  plantation.  Out 
of  their  particular  province  they  know  nothing — abso- 
lutely nothing ;  and  no  judicious  master  ever  thinks  of 
exacting  of  them,  duties  out  of  their  regular  work. 
Dick,  the  ostler's  boy,  doesn't  know  horse-radish  from  a 
pumpkin-vine ;  and  Bob,  the  gardener's  boy,  could  solve 
a  problem  in  Euclid  as  easily  as  he  could  place  the 
harness  on  the  carriage  horses.  The  cook  never  enters 
the  house,  and  the  nurse  is  never  seen  in  the  kitchen ; 
the  wash-woman  is  never  put  to  ironing,  nor  the  woman 
who  has  charge  of  the  ironing-room  ever  put  to  washing. 
Each  one  rules  supreme  in  her  wash-house,  her  ironing- 
room,  her  kitchen,  her  nursery,  her  housekeeper's  room ; 
and  thus,  none  interfering  with  the  duties  of  the  other, 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  181 

a  complete  system  of  domesticdom  is  established  to  the 
amazing  comfort  and  luxury  of  all  who  enjoy  its  advan- 
tages^} 

This,  however,  is  a  digression ;  but,  as  I  am  not 
writing  by  the  rule,  whatever  ramblings  my  pen  takes 
should  be  regarded  as  a  regular  part  of  my  letter,  as  a 
deviation  contemplated  in  the  beginning.  I  will  now  re- 
turn to  Dick,  or  Dickon  as  he  was  called  "  for  short,"  as 
Charles  saith. 

Dick  was  mounted  on  the  same  low,  black,  shaggy,  Mex- 
ican pony  I  have  before  described,  his  feet  dangling  as  if 
they  were  two  weights  to  balance  him,  and  encased  with  a 
pair  of  brogans,  the  bottoms  of-which  were  still  of  that  fresh 
polished  leather-brown,  which  showed  they  had  not  yet 
touched  mother  earth,  but  were  span  new.  Indeed,  I  had 
seen  Dickon  mount  his  Mexican  bare-footed,  and  then  cause 
one  of  his  black  companions  to  put  his  shoes  on  for  him, 
in  order  that  they  might  shine  with  newness,  and  as  long 
as  possible  delight  the  eyes,  and  kindle  envy  in  the 
bosoms  of  all  "  darkies"  whom  he  might  encounter  on 
the  road.  In  this  vanity,  Dickon  was  not  peculiar,  for 
the  whole  race  are  more  pleased  with  a  pair  of  new  boots 
or  shoes  than  any  other  portion  of  apparel.  I  have  seen 
both  men  and  women,  in  going  to  meeting  with  new  Christ- 
mas-gift shoes,  walk  half  the  distance  on  the  Virginia 
fence,  in  order  that  they  might  reach  the  "meetin'  hus" 
with  the  bottoms  of  their  brogans  "spick  and  span." 
White  "gemmen,"  I  believe,  think  most  of  a  new  hat, 
if  one  might  judge  from  the  habit  of  "betting  a  hat,  and 
the  gentle  pleasure  they  seem  to  enjoy  in  smoothing  its 
glossy  coat  down  with  their  palm  or  a  kid  glove,  and 
the  jealousy  with  which  they  protect  it,  when  it  is  new, 


182  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

from  all  soiling.  The  new  coat  may  sit  down  in  a  dusty 
chair  without  much  compunctious  visitings  to  the  trem- 
bling conscience  of  the  wearer ;  but  did  any  lady  ever  see 
a  gentleman  deposit  his  hat  upon  a  table  barely  susceptible 

of  dust  ?    Between  us,  Mr. ,  fear  of  such  contact  with 

its  immaculate  ebon  causes  gentlemen  to  keep  their  hats 
in  hand  in  parlor  visitations,  protesting,  with  a  hypocriti- 
cal smile,  if  you  try  to  deprive  them  of  it,  that  it  is  really 
the  fashion  !  Bless  me !  If  the  fashion  should  change, 
what  would  be  the  substitute  ?  There  can  be  none  ;  for  I 
have  seen  fine  beaux  use  their  castors  as  if  they  were  pet 
kittens,  stroking  down  and  stroking  down  the  soft  fur 
with  affectionate  endearment,  as  if  it  were  a  baby,  tap- 
ping and  smoothing  its  glossy  crown,  as  if  it  were  a  fan, 
with  which  to  cool  their  be-whiskered  faces,  or  a  pocket 
handkerchief,  to  hide  a  temporarily  missing  tooth,  or 
wine-tainted  (more's  the  pity)  exhalations  of  breath, 
or  an  escritoire  to  pencil  a  letter  upon,  and  as  a  mail-bag, 
to  put  one  in  ! — as  a  weapon  of  war  to  drive  a  wasp  or 
a  bat  out  of  the  room,  as  an  individual  fire-screen,  and 
for  illustrating  any  ideas  in  conversation :  as,  for  instance, 
I  have  seen  a  hat  called  (only  for  the  sake  of  illustration, 

Mr. ,)  a  steam  boiler,   a  new  novel,  a  church,   the 

Mexican  general  Santa  Anna ;  while  the  coal-scuttle  stood 
for  General  Taylor,  Mount  Vesuvius,  the  tomb  of  Ma- 
homet, a  patent  coffee-mill,  a  newly  invented  horse-shoe, 
and  a  negro's  head.  It  has  enabled  many  a  difiident 
gentleman  to  retain  his  self-possession,  and  give  a  use 
for  his  hands  for  a  whole  evening,  who,  otherwise,  would 
have  suffered  excruciatingly  from  the  embarrassment  of 
being  alone  with  himself.     You  might  as  well  ask  some 


THE   SOUTHERNER  AT   HOME.  183 

nervous  gentlemen  if  you  should  take  their  boots,  as  to 
ask  them  if  you  should  "take  their  hats." 

It  occurs  to  me,  Mr. ,  that  only  one  thing  is  wanted 

to  perfect  the  drawing-room  hat.  This  idea  has  been 
suggested  to  my  mind  more  than  once,  when  I  have  seen 
gentlemen,  during  a  pause  in  the  conversation,  gaze  ab- 
stractedly down  into  the  recesses  of  their  castors,  as  if 
they  were  trying  to  discover  stars  at  noon-day  in  a  well. 
The  idea  is  this :  That  in  the  next  issue  of  fashionable 
hats  by  your  tonish  artistes,  Oakford  of  Chestnut  street, 
or  Genin  of  Broadway,  there  should  be  elegantly  inserted 
within  the  crown,  where  the  maker's  name  usually  is 
found,  a  small  mirror,  encircled  by  the  manufacturer's 
name.*  Ladies  have  them  in  their  fans,  and  the  hat  is 
the  gentleman's  fan.  Such  an  arrangement  would  meet 
with  favor,  I  have  no  doubt.  The  gentlemen  at  a  loss 
for  ideas  could  catch  inspiration  from  the  depth  of  their 
castors ;  for  what  will  inspire  a  person  with  such  a  flow 
of  agreeable  ideas  as  the  contemplation  of  himself  ? 

The  introduction  of  this  hat  would  be  productive  of 
the  highest  social  benefits,  and  impart  a  charm  and 
vivacity  to  drawing-room  conversations  that  cannot  now 
be  properly  estimated.  Dear  me  !  Let  us  go  back  to 
Dickon,  whom  I  have  fairly  taken  for  my  text;  for 
what  I  understand  by  a  text,  is  some  point  which  gives 
the  preacher  a  starting  vantage,  like  the  starting  pole  to 
the  foot-racer,  who,  once  leaving  it  at  his  back,  never 
expects  to  behold  it  more. 

But  we  won't  lose  sight  of  Dickon,  nor  of  his  brogans. 
When  we  came  near  any  dwelling,  to  the  front  of  which 
any  of  his  sooty  brethren  might  be  drawn  to  gaze  on  us, 
*  This  has  since  (1853)  been  done. 


184  THE   SUNNY    SOUTH;    OR, 

he  would  throw  out  his  legs  horizontally,  in  order  to 
display  the  full  glory  and  splendor  of  his  pegged  shoes, 
the  soles  of  which  were  three-quarters  of  an  inch  in 
thickness,  and  the  leather  of  which  they  were  made,  as 
thick  as  the  hide  of  a  rhinoceros ;  yet  they  filled  his 
dark  soul  with  delight,  and  he  rejoiced  in  them  as  if  they 
had  been  as  beautiful  as  the  slippers  of  Cinderella. 

He  led  by  the  bridle  Isabel's  riding  horse,  the  hand- 
some creature  I  have  before  described,  fully  caparisoned, 
and  my  beautiful  mule,  accoutred  with  Mexican  magni- 
ficence. These  accompany  us  in  order  that,  when  we 
are  tired  of  the  carriage,  we  can  ride,  and  also  for  our 
convenience  while  at  the  Springs.  My  mule  is  a  perfect 
beauty  !  He  is  none  of  the  Sancho  Panza  donkey  race, 
but  as  symmetrical  as  a  deer,  with  an  ankle  like  a  hind 
of  the  forest,  or  like  a  fine  lady's ;  with  hide  as  glossy  as 
that  of  a  mouse,  ears  not  too  large,  and  well  cut;  a 
pretty  head,  a  soft  and  aflfectionate  eye,  with  a  little 
mischief  in  it,  (observable  only  when  Isabel  would  try  to 
pass  him,)  and  as  swift  as  an  antelope,  and  thirteen  and 
a  half  hands  high.  It  comes  at  my  voice,  and  does  not 
like  for  any  one  but  me  to  be  in  the  saddle.     The  value 

of  this  mule,  Mr.  -^ ,  is  three  hundred  dollars.     You 

have  no  idea  of  the  beauty  and  cost  of  these  useful  crea- 
tures in  this  country,  and  how  universally  they  are  used. 
Out  of  nine  private  carriages  at  the  Church  last  Sab- 
bath, four  of  them  were  drawn  by  beautiful  spans  of 
mules.  Even  our  own  traveling  carriage,  which  I  have 
described  to  you,  is  drawn  by  a  pair  of  large  mules,  six- 
teen hands,  and  which  the  colonel  has  been  ofiered  one 
thousand  dollars  for.  ^t  is  only  the  rich  that  cari  afford 
the  luxury  of  the  use  of  these  elegant  animals]     So 


THE   SOUTUERNER   AT   HOME.  185 

dcn't  smile  at  my  saddled  mule,  which  I  have  named 
•'Jenny  Lind." 
Having  now  introdued  you  to  our  traveling  party, 

Mr. ,  I  will  in  my  next  give  you  some  account  of 

what  events  took  place  on  our  journey. 

Yours, 
Kate. 

P.  S.  Many  thanks  to  the  kind  editorial  people  who 
have  been  plea&ed  to  treat  my  faults  as  a  writer  so  leni- 
ently, and  to  encourage  me  with  such  words  of  approba- 
tion.    I  will  do  my  best  to  merit  their  esteem. 


185  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 


LETTER  XXIII. 

Mp..  : 

My  Dear  Sir, — It  is  all  up  now !  Everybody  knows 
it !  The  secret  is  out,  and  I  am  distressed  beyond  mea- 
6\xX%>.  I  wouldn't  for  the  world  it  should  have  been 
k\iOwn  I  write  these  letters ;  and  I  have  done  my  best 
that  it  shouldn't  be  suspected ;  and  if  it  had  not  been  for 
certain  over-wise  busy  bodies,  the  colonel  and  Isabel 
would  have  been  none  the  wiser ;  for  they  never  see  your 
paper — I  have  taken  nice  care  of  that.  I  will  tell  you 
how  it  was,  Mr. .  You  must  know  that  on  the  even- 
ing of  the  day  we  left  the  Park  for  the  Springs,  we 
reached  the  village  of  Columbia,  where  there  is  a  cele- 
brated Institute  for  Young  Ladies,  romantically  situated 
near  the  town.  Isabel  had  a  friend  or  two  there,  and 
proposed  to  call  and  pay  them  a  visit.  The  colonel  said 
he  would  accompany  us;  and  off  we  set  on  foot  through 
the  principal  street.  On  the  way  we  passed  a  one  story 
white  cottage  house,  with  a  little  shaded  green  yard  in 
front.  This,  the  colonel  told  us,  was  the  residence  of 
Mr.  Polk,  when  he  was  called  to  occupy  the  White 
House.  It  is  wholly  unpretending,  and  might  rent  for 
one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  per  annum.  In  coming  to 
Columbia,  six  miles  out,  we  had  passed  a  small  country 
dwelling,  of  the  humblest  aspect,  which  we  were  told  was 
his  birth-place. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT  JIOME.  187 

After  looking  a  moment  at  the  plain  dwelling  on  the 
street,  and  reflecting  from  what  various  positions  of  so- 
ciety our  Presidents  spring,  the  ^bode  of  Madam,  the 
venerable  mother  of  the  late  President  Polk,  was  shown 
to  me — a  two  story  brick  house,  without  ornament  or 
grounds,  and  approached  only  by  an  uncomfortable  look- 
ing side-walk.  She  is  greatly  beloved,  and  is  said  to  be 
both  an  intelligent  and  witty  old  lady.  Near  her  resides 
Mrs.  Dr.  Hays,  a  sister  of  the  late  President,  and  said 
strikingly  to  resemble  him  in  talents  and  appearance. 

At  length  we  came  in  sight  of  the  Gothic  turrets  and 
Norman  towers  of  the  battlemented  structure  towards 
which  we  were  directing  our  steps.  It  is  truly  a  noble 
edifice,  commandingly  situated,  and  complete  in  all  its 
appointments  to  the  eye.  Its  color  is  a  grayish  blue. 
It  is  approached  through  imposing  gate-ways,  by  wind- 
ing avenues  that  bring  the  visitor  soon  upon  a  green 
plateau.  The  entrance  is  spacious,  and  hung  with  pic- 
tures. We  were  ushered  by  a  well-dressed  female  slave 
into  a  parlor  on  the  left,  handsomely  furnished,  but  not 
a  single  book  to  be  seen  in  it.  This  showed  that  the 
proprietors  regarded  books  as  tools  in  that  place,  and 
kept  them  for  the  shop — that  is  the  study-room.  The 
colonel  sent  up  our  names  to  the  Rector ;  for  the  Institu- 
tion, which  numbers  three  hundred  pupils,  is  Episcopa- 
lian, and  is  under  the  charge  of  a  clergyman  of  the 
Church. 

A  gentleman  shortly  made  his  appearance,  dressed 
with  the  nicest  care  and  attention  to  his  personal  appear- 
ance. He  was  rather  a  handsome  man,  inclined  to  gen- 
teel corpulency,  wore  gold  rimmed  glasses,  nankeen 
trousers,  white  vest,  and  full  whiskers  accurately  trimmed 


188  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR,*; 

to  a  hair.  He  was  the  heau  ideal  of  preceptor-in-chief 
of  a  large  and  fashionable  boarding-school  of  young 
misses.  He  was  the  most  polite  man  I  ever  saw.  Lord 
Chesterfield  would  have  embraced  hira  with  demonstra- 
tions of  enthusiasm.  Yet,  with  all  this  formality  of 
courteousness,  which  the  head  of  a  ladies'  school  must 
of  necessity  get  into  the  habit  of  exercising  towards  all, 
his  face  bore  the  impress  of  a  scholarly  mind.  I  always 
note  with  great  particularity  the  peculiarities  of  those 
who  educate  youth,  for  so  much  depends  upon  example, 
and  is  learned  by  involuntary  imitation.  The  young 
ladies,  whom  Isabel  had  sent  for,  soon  made  their  ap- 
pearance, both  dressed  plainly  in  white,  and  I  observed 
that  they  both  eyed  me  askance  and  curiously  in  a  pecu- 
liar way,  and  then  both  whispered  to  Isabel,  and  then 
looked  mysteriously  again  at  me  harder  than  before. 

At  length,  we  rose  to  accompany  the  courteous  Rector 
over  the  vast  establishment  which  calls  him  lord.  I  was 
amazed  at  its  extent,  at  the  number  of  its  rooms,  at  the 
profusion  of  its  pictures  and  maps,  hanging  from  all  the 
walls,  at  the  crowd  of  girls,  so  many  of  them,  and  so 
full  of  the  promise  of  future  loveliness,  and  the  perfect  or- 
der and  system  which  prevailed  throughout.  But  if  these 
gratified  me,  I  did  not  a  little  marvel  at  finding  myself 
waylaid  and  watched  by  knots  of  juvenile  belles,  with 
rosy  lips  buzzing,  and  their  handsome  eyes  flashing  and 
staring  at  me  as  if  I  was  a  "show"  of  some  kind,  while 
Isabel  and  the  colonel  were  scarcely  noticed.  "  What 
can  have  happened  to  me?"  I  asked  myself,  and  ima^ 
gined  I  had  in  some  way  disfigured  my  face,  and  so  made 
a  fright  and  sight  of  myself;  but  happening  to  pass  a 
mirror,  and  finding  my  "beauty"  unimpaired,  and  my 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  189 

appearance  as  it  should  be,  I  was  excessively  annoyed 
and  curious  to  know  why  I  was  stared  at  and  whispered 
about  so.  It  was  not  done  rudely,  however,  but  civilly, 
and  with  a  sort  of  pleased  reverence. 

I  did  not  discover  the  secret  of  it  all  until  we  had  re- 
turned to  the  inn,  when  a  gentleman,  who  is  a  poet,  but 
I  believe  has  never  published  any  thing,  called  and  sent 
in  his  card  for  me,  his  name  written  gracefully  in  a  scroll 
held  in  the  bill  of  a  dove,  all  done  with  shining  black 
lead. 

When  he  was  admitted,  he  approached  me  with  a  dozen 
bows,  and  said  he  was  happy  to  have  the  honor  of  wel- 
coming me  to  Columbia.  He  had  just  heard  from  some 
young  ladies  of  the  Academy  that  I  had  honored  it  with 
a  visit,  and  he  begged  to  assure  me  that  I  was  appre- 
ciated, in  the  most  distinguished  manner,  by  all  intellec- 
tual persons  who  had  had  the  pleasure  of  reading  my  Let- 
ters from  Overton  Park,  published  in  the  Model  Courier. 

"  I  trust  I  have  also  the  honor,"  here  the  young  gen- 
tleman turned  and  bowed  low  to  the  amazed  colonel,  "  of 
seeing  the  celebrated  colonel  whom  your  pen  has  immor- 
talized, and  this" — and  here  he  made  two  very  low  bows 
to  the  puzzled  Isabella — "is,  without  doubt,  the  bold 
and  beautiful  Miss  Peyton,  whom  I  have  learned  to  ad- 
mire, though  I  have  never  before  had  the  happiness  of 
paying  my  respects  to  her." 

Mr. !  can  you  appreciate,  have  you  nerves  and 

sensibility  enough  to  appreciate  my  position  at  that  aw- 
ful moment  ?  I  felt  that  the  crisis  had  arrived  !  I  did 
not  open  my  lips,  but  pale  and  motionless  I  sat  and 
looked  him  into  annihilation,  and  then  I  moved  my  eyes 
towards  the  colonel  and  Isabel,  in  a  sort  of  helpless 


190  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

despair,  to  see  the  effect  of  this  contretemps  upon  their 
unsuspecting  minds. 

"What  is  this,  Kate,  eh?  What  is  it  the  gentleman 
would  say?"  he  asked,  in  an  amusingly  bewildered  way. 

"  I  can  explain,  dear  father  !  Don't  look  so  like  the 
white  lady  in  wax,  dear  Kate !"  added  Isabel,  smiling. 
"  I  heard  something  of  it  at  the  school,  and  the  girls 
all  wondered  I  had  never  heard  of  it  before,  especially 
as  I  was  spoken  of  in  the  Letters." 

"What  letters,  Bel?"  asked  her  father.  "You  mys- 
tify me !  I  heard  something  once,  I  now  recollect,  but 
it  passed  from  my  mind." 

"  Why,  sir,  the  truth  is,  there  is  a  spy  in  the  camp, 
dear  father,"  answered  Bel,  with  an  arch  smile,  and 
glancing  aside  at  me,  "and  this  gentleman  has  been  so 
good  as  to  let  the  poor  kitten  loose  in  sight  of  everybody. 
Kate  has  been  writing  letters  to  a  paper  in  Philadelphia, 
which  have  been  printed,  at  least,  so  I  was  told  at  the 
Academy,  a  score  of  them,  and  every  one  of  them  dated 
at  Overton  Park,  and  descriptive  of  every  thing  that  she 
saw  or  experienced  there  that  she  thought  would  be  inte- 
resting ;  and  in  these  letters  she  has  been  so  naughty  as 
to  speak  of  both  of  us,  at  least  so  I  was  told,  for  I  have 
not  seen  one  of  the  letters,  but  I  am  dying  to  do  so." 

"Nor  I,"  said  the  colonel.  "So!  so!  Then  we  have 
a  literatteuriste  in  our  family,  'takin'  notes  an'  printin' 
'em'  too,  i'  faith!  You  sly  rogue,  Kate,"  he  added, 
turning  to  me,  "you  have  got  the  advantage  of  me.  So 
you  have  been  making  us  all  sit  for  our  portraits,  poor 
innocents !" 

"But  she  has  not  written  one  word,  she  would  be 
afraid  to  have  us  read,  that  I  know,"  said  Isabel. 


THE   SOUTHERXER  AT   HOME.  191 

"That  I'll  vouch  for,  Kate!  so  don't  look  so  blank!" 
.  "That  she  hasn't,  sir,"  officiously  exclaimed  the 
wretched  poet,  as  if  he  were  eager  to  atone  for  his  faux 
pas.  "Dear  me!  I  didn't  know  but — but — everybody 
knew — or — !  But  sir !  but,  Miss !  you  may  rest  assured 
that  not  a  word  is  written,  that, 

*  Dying,  she  would  wish  to  blot/ 

She  has  alluded  to  you  in  every  instance  in  the  most 
princely,  and  affectionate,  and  respectful — " 

"My  very  good  sir,"  interrupted  the  colonel,  "the 
lady  needs  no  apologist.  We  know  well  she  has  not. 
Now,  Kate,  if  I  had  these  Letters,  I  would,  as  a  punish- 
ment to  you,  make  you  read  every  one  of  them  aloud  to 
us  when  we  get  back  to  the  Park." 

"It  would  be  a  punishment,"  I  said,  smiling  and 
taking  heart  again,  at  the  kind  and  affectionate  manner 
in  which  the  discovery  had  been  received  by  my  two 
dear  friends.  "But  if  it  will  be  received  in  full  atone- 
ment— " 

"Full — complete,"  answered  the  colonel. 

"I  have  most  all  the  Letters,  sir;  seventeen  in  number, 
sir,  up  to  the  last  week,"  eagerly  remarked  the  poet ; 
"  they  are  at  your  service,  sir  !" 

"And  so,  sir,"  said  I,  half  angrily,  "you  would  com- 
plete the  mischief  you  have  involuntarily  done  by  a 
voluntary  proposition  to  contribute  to  my  punishment." 

"Ten  thousand  pardons.  Miss  Kate — I  beg  pardon, 
Miss  Conyngham — I  will  withhold  the  Letters,  then." 

"Nay,  since  you  have  them,"  said  I,  "and  are  willing 
to  part  with  them  for  a  time,  (they  shall  be  returned  to 
your  address  again,)  I  will  accept  the  offer ;  for.  Colonel, 


192  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

I  wish  you  to  see  all  that  I  have  written,  and  the  sooner 
my  mind  will  be  relieved." 

"I  am  full  of  curiosity  to  read  them,"  said  Isabel 
eagerly. 

Thereupon  the  blabbing  poet  departed  to  bring  them, 
when  the  colonel  and  Isabel,  feeling  for  my  chagrin, 
succeeded  in  reconciling  me  to  myself;  and  when  the 
miserable  youth  came  back  with  the  bale  of  Couriers  un- 
der his  arm,  I  was  in  a  mood  to  receive  them  with  a 
merry  laugh,  though  still  a  tear  or  two  of  vexation 
trembled  in  my  eyes,  that  the  discovery  had  been  made, 
and  I  heartily  wished  I  had  never  written  a  line.  But, 
who  ever  dreamed  of  my  Letters  being  read  here,  out 
West,  or  being  thought  of  a  week  after  they  were  written  ? 
You  know,  sir,  how  insensibly  they  were  drawn  out  from 
paper  to  paper,  and  increased  to  their  present  number, 
almost  without  my  knowledge. 

"If  I  had  reflected,"  as  I  now  said  to  the  colonel  and 
Isabel,  "that  what  is  published  in  an  Eastern  paper  is 
read  as  well  in  the  West  as  if  it  had  been  printed  there, 
for  newspapers  circulate  everywhere,  I  should  not  have 
written,  or  written  less  freely  in  my  use  of  names  and 
places.  I  did  not  then  understand  that  communications 
sent  out  from  Tennessee,  to  a  widely  circulating  paper 
m  Philadelphia,  will  as  certainly  come  back  to  Tennessee, 
and  be  read  by  all  the  next  door  neighbors  of  the  writer, 
as  certainly  as  if  they  had  been  printed  in  his  own  town. 
I  did  not  understand,  as  I  now  do,  that  newspapers  are 
without  geographical  limits  and  boundaries,  but  that  their 
voices,  like  those  of  the  stars,  'go  into  all  lands,  and  their 
words  to  the  end  of  the  world!'  that  to  them  belong 
neither  climates  nor  latitudes;  that  the  same  journal 


THE   SOUTHERNER    AT   HOME-  198 

which  is  read  around  the  elegant  fireside  of  glowing  an- 
thracite in  Walnut  street,  is  also  read,  word  for  word 
and  column  for  column,  before  the  light  of  the  log  fire 
in  the  woodman's  hut  on  the  Mississippi." 

I  have  decided  to  continue  to  write  my  Letters,  Mr. , 

for  the  colonel  and  Isabel  have  read  all  which  I  have 
written,  (this  being  the  third  day  since  the  discovery,)  and 
find  nothing  that  I  should  not  have  set  down,  save  names, 
and,  as  they  say,  giving  them  both  better  characters  than 
they  deserve.  I  shall  therefore  resume  my  "journey" 
and  give  you  an  account  of  a  delightful  day  passed  at 
Ashwood,  en  route  to  the  watering  place,  seven  miles  west 
of  Columbia. 

The  unlucky  poet  felt  so  badly  at  the  scrape  he  had 
unwittingly  got  me  into,  that  in  the  morning,  when  we 
left  the  inn,  he  came  to  the  carriage,  and  bidding  me 
good  bye,  begged  me  to  pardon  him,  a  request  which  I 
very  cheerfully  complied  with.  The  last  I  saw  of  him, 
as  the  carriage  turned  the  corner,  was  standing  fixed  to 
the  spot  where  I  had  charitably  shaken  hands  with  him, 
his  hat  raised,  and  his  body  bowing,  with  his  left  hand 
frantically  placed  on  his  heart. 

Mr. ,  if  you  receive  a  piece  of  poetry  from  these 

parts,  addressed  to  me,  "  On  meeting  me"  in  Columbia, 
I  implore  you  not  to  insert  it,  for  I  saw  the  mad  phrensy 
of  such  an  act  in  his  eyes  as  I  parted  with  him,  and  he 
will  be  sure  to  perpetrate  the  deed  there  fore-shadowed. 

Respectfully,  yours, 

Kate. 
13 


194  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 


LETTER    XXIV. 

This  letter,  my  Dear  Sir,  is  addressed  to  you  from 
the  loveliest  region  of  this  state,  and  from  the  "  Garden 
of  Eden"  of  this  loveliest  region.  Maury  county,  (pro- 
nounced here  Murry,)  you  must  know,  is  the  gem  of 
Tennessee.  It  contains  the  most  beautiful  hills,  the 
clearest  brooks,  the  prettiest  vales,  the  stateliest  trees, 
the  handsomest  native  parks,  the  richest  farms,  the 
wealthiest  planters,  the  most  intelligent  population,  the 
best  seminaries  of  learning,  and  the  loveliest  ladies  of  all 
Tennessee ;  at  least  the  good  people  of  Maury  say  so, 
and  who  should  know  so  well  as  they,  pray  ?  They  also 
boast  of  having  given  a  President  to  the  United  States, 
and  its  greatest  astronomer  to  it — Lieutenant  Maury, 
of  the  Observatory  at  Washington.  So  far  as  my  ex- 
perience goes,  I  am  ready  to  endorse  all  the  good  folks 
say;  for  Ashwood,  which  is  the  setting  in  the  ring  of 
Maury,  and  where  I  now  am,  is  enough  in  itself  to  give 
grace  to  a  much  more  inferior  country.  I  will  describe 
Ashwood  to  you. 

Fancy  yourself,  Mr. ,  (where  you  may  be  in  per- 
son whenever  you  take  it  into  your  ambulatory  brain  to 
ramble  this  way,)  seated  in  our  roomy  and  luxurious 
carriage,  by  my  side,  if  you  are  not  too  stout,  and  don't 
fill  up  too  large  a  space,  for,  of  all  things,  I  love  to  ride 
comfortably;  or  by  Isabel's  side, — but  then  she  is  so 


THE   SOUTHERNER  AT   HOME.  195 

handsome,  I  dare  say  you  would  rather  sit  opposite  to 
her,  where  you  could  watch  the  intelligent  play  of  her 
beautiful  features ;  or,  perhaps,  better  still,  imagine  your- 
self on  horseback,  riding  by  our  window,  with  no  object 
to  obstruct  your  view  of  the  country ;  this  will  be  best, 
after  all — especially  as  you  are  supposed  to  be  traveling 
to  see  and  print  the  country ;  for  I  conceive  that  every- 
thing is  vieAved  by  an  editor — ^typically — not  as  it  really 
is,  but  how  it  will  look  in  type — ^how  many  squares  or 
paragraphs  it  will  make !  Fancy  yourself  thus  d  cheval, 
and  riding  by  our  coach  windows  as  we  sally  forth  from 
the  village  of  Columbia,  with  its  one  broad,  rocky,  side- 
walkloss  street.  On  your  right  you  will  not  fail  to  notice 
the  former  cottage  abode  of  the  late  President  Polk,  and 
on  the  left,  the  plain  residence  of  Madame,  his  aged 
mother,  to  both  of  which  I  have  before  drawn  your  at- 
tention. 

A  few  minutes  farther  will  bring  you  opposite  the 
castellated  edifice  known  far  and  near  as  the  Columbia 
Institute,  where  I  had  "the  honors"  paid  me  the  day 
before,  and  where  is  preserved  a  conservatory  of  loveli- 
ness, each  virgin  flower  awaiting  her  turn  of  annual 
transplanting  into  the  great  wilderness  of  the  world. 
Ah,  girls !  if  you  knew  the  storms  and  clouds,  the  sad- 
nesses and  sorrows,  the  cares  and  anguishes,  the  biting 
frosts  and  chilling  winds  that  wither  the  heart  and  blight 
the  spirit  in  the  open  world,  you  would  hug  your  pre- 
sent shelter,  and  long  linger, — dreading  and  shrinking 
to  go  forth, — within  its  protecting  and  safe  embrace ! 

This  reflection  is  supposed  to  be  made  by  yourself, 

Mr. ,  in  the  philosophical  m.ood  which  becomes  an 

editor  en  voyage  to  see  the  earth  he  lives  upon.     After 


190  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH:    OR, 

losing  sight  of  the  Institute,  you  will  come  to  the  top  of 
the  hill,  and  glance  back  to  take  a  parting  look  of  the 
village  of  Columbia,  which  is  nestled  picturesquely  amid 
trees,  with  a  tower  or  two  peering  above  them,  on  the 

banks  of  the  romantic  Duck !    Yes,  Mr. ,  the  classic, 

and  erudite,  and  scholastic  Columbia  is  situated  on  the 
"Duck  river."     "What  is  in  a  name?"  you  ask — 

"  Duck,  or  Doddle,  or  Dunkins,  or  Dumplins ;  all  very 
good  names  in  their  way,  if  they  mean  good.  A  rose  by 
any  other  name  would  no  doubt  smell  like  a  rose." 
Suppose  a  rose  were  called  "Quashee,"  would  you  name 

your  lovely  daughter  Quashee  ?     Ah,  Mr. ,  can  you 

fancy  your  smiling  babe  looking  as  sweet  with  the  name 
of  Quashee  indelibly  fixed  upon  her,  as  she  now  does  ? 
One  of  these  days,  we  have  no  doubt  that  the  refined 
polish  of  the  Columbians  will  lead  them  to  see  the  affin- 
ity between  Duck  and  Quashee,  and  at  least  adorn  their 
rock-cliffed  river  with  a  more  euphonious  name. 

After  losing  sight  of  the  village,  you  will  find  yourself 
pacing  smoothly  along  a  level  and  broad  pike,  not 
roughened  by  even  a  pebble  to  disturb  the  even  roll  of 
the  carriage  wheels.  The  fields  on  one  side  are  green 
and  undulating — on  the  other  is  a  fine  wood.  In  a  few 
minutes  a  dark  brown  villa  meets  your  eye,  some  distance 
from  the  road,  on  the  left  hand,  with  a  neat  gate-way 
opening  into  a  well-kept  carriage-way,  that  sweeps  hand- 
somely round  a  laAvn  up  to  its  portico.  The  grounds 
are  ornamented,  well  kept,  and  neatly  enclosed,  and  the 
whole  place  has  an  air  of  scholarly  seclusion,  combined 
with  the  most  enviable  domestic  comfort.  This  is  the 
abode  of  the  Right  Rev.  Bishop  Otey,  of  the  Tennessee 
Diocese  of  the  American  Episcopal  Church.     This  resi- 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  1^ 

dcnce  is  the  seat  of  true  clerical  hospitality.  Bishop 
Otey  is  indeed  the  reverend  father  in  God  of  all  his 
clergy,  who  look  up  to  him  with  a  filial  love,  combined 
with  a  fraternal  confidence,  that  speaks  volumes  for  the 
traits  of  character  of  a  Bishop,  who  can  command  such 
voluntary  affection.  Bishop  Otey  stands  among  the  very 
first  Prelates  of  the  Church,  which  his  piety  and  learn- 
ing so  eminently  adorn.  If  you  will  turn  your  eyes  in 
that  direction,  you  will  discover  him  in  a  brown  linen 
coat,  and  home-made  trowsers,  and  an  old  straw  hat, 
working  amid  his  shrubbery.  That  bright-eyed  young 
girl,  with  a  shade  hat  in  her  hand,  and  a  cloud  of  sunny 
hair,  is  his  youngest  daughter,  the  pride  of  her  father's 
heart,  who  has  recently  laid  beneath  the  green  earth  two 
still  more  beautiful  ones.  It  is  only  the  hope  of  the 
Christian  that  can  strengthen  and  bind  up  the  heart 
broken  by  such  heavy  strokes  as  these.  Calm  and  holy 
confidence  in  a  life  beyond  the  stars,  where  the  severed 
here  shall  entwine  in  each  other's  embrace,  holy  lip  to 
holy  lip,  loving  heart  to  loving  heart, — can  only  lend  en- 
durance to  separations  in  this.  Without  this  sure  and 
steadfast  hope,  what  a  bottomless  pit  of  crushed  affections 
would  the  grave  be  ? 

The  road  now  divides  a  green  and  verdant  landscape, 
more  woodland  than  field,  but  made  up  of  both,  with 
here  and  there  a  tenement  of  some  small  proprietor. 
You  are  pleased  with  the  beauty  of  the  trees,  the  height 
and  majesty  of  the  silver-trunked  sycamore,  overshadow- 
ing some  rock-bound  crystal  spring,  or  by  the  graceful 
bondings  of  a  group  of  willows  bordering  a  rivulet ;  or 
by  the  breadth  of  the  broad-armed  oak  on  the  sunny  hill- 
side ;  or  by  the  feathering  and  stately  elegance  of  the 


198  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

Indian  salex ;  or  the  columnar  altitude  of  the  poplar, 
marking  the  site  of  some  hidden  cottage.  * 

I  see  you  gaze  with  admiration  into  the  sun-dappled 
forests,  whose  broad  patches  of  light  and  shade  look  like 
scenes  in  Claude  Lorraines's  pictures,  and  remind  you 
of  them.  You  wonder  at  the  green  sward  beneath  the 
trees  being  so  green  and  soft,  as  if  it  had  been  the  work 
of  trained  English  gardeners ;  when  the  extent  of  these 
lawn  like  forests  convinces  you  that  they  are  as  nature's 
gardening  left  them.  I  see  you  stretch  your  neck  to  see 
where  the  deer  are.  They  seldom  come  near  the  road, 
and  in  the  vicinity  of  towns  are  rarely  seen  now.  There 
are  few  or  no  deer  in  this  county  of  Maury,  but  those 
that  are  tamed  and  kept  for  gentle  adornment  to  the  vi- 
cinage of  some  villa. 

Did  you  ever  trot  over  a  smoother  road,  sir  ?  For  the 
last  three  miles,  not  a  stone  the  size  of  your  watch  seal 
has  been  encountered  by  the  polished  wheel-tire.  Does 
not  the  stately  span  of  mules  move  with  a  truly  equinine 
bravery  and  speed  ?  I  see  by  your  eye,  as  you  are  watch- 
ing their  pace,  that  you  mean  to  have  a  pair  for  Broad 
street,  or  whatever  other  avenue  you  Philadelphia  gentle- 
men make  a  fashionable  driving  thoroughfare.  The  col- 
onel offers  you  a  cigar  out  of  the  window.  Don't  refuse  it, 
Mr. .  They  were  brought  from  Havana  oj  the  tiger- 
captain,  and  are  pronounced  nonpareil.  I  love  to  see  a 
gentleman  smoke  who  knows  how  to  smoke ;  but,  bless 
mc  !  when  they  do  not  know  how,  what  filthy  work  they 
make  of  it !  The  awkward  way  they  embrace  the  cigar 
with  the  unskilled  lips,  as  if  it  were  an  unusually  large 
stick  of  bitter  barley  candy — the  jaundice-colored  exuda- 
tions of  juice,  which  must  be  expectorated  twice  in  every 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  Ifl© 

minute — the — but  enough :  if  these  may  not  be  written 
about  by  pens  polite,  how  can  the  spectacle  be  endured 
as  it  is  by  hundreds  of  polite  eyes  and  polite  nerves 
daily  ? 

Oh !  ye  monstrosities  of  smokers — ^ye  caricaturists  of 
a  cigarilian  luxury — ^ye  unsuccessful  imitators  of  the 
inimitable ! — chew  tobacco  at  once,  but  don't — don't  join 
together  in  one  operation  what  was  ever  intended  to  be 
kept  asunder.     I  see  you  smoke  your  cigar  like  a  true 

smoker,  Mr. .     You  use  it  as  familiarly  as  the  jockey 

his  whip,  or  the  fine  lady  her  fan.  You  handle  it  as 
delicately  as  if  it  were  made  of  gossamer,  yet  puflF  it  as 
vigorously  as  if  it  were  of  the  consistency  of  gutta  percha. 
You  do  not  so  much  smoke  as  inspire  and  exhale  azurely 
— as  if  it  were  as  natural  to  you  as  to  breathe  ordinarily. 
You  never  remove  it  from  your  mouth,  save  to  laugh,  for 
you  converse  with  it  as  if  it  incommoded  you  no  more 
than  your  lips  or  teeth,  and  then  you  touch  it  delicately 
and  regard  it  affectionately.  An  admirably  finished  and 
endui-able  smoker  !  Such  smoking  is  not  unlawful,  and 
can   never   be   indicted   as   nuisable.      Colonel,   please 

hand  Mr. another  cigar. 

Kate. 


200  THB   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 


LETTER   XXV. 

Ma. : 

My  Dear  Sir, — There  is  probably  no  purgatory  on 
earth  (for  purgatories  abound  in  this  world)  so  effectually 
conducive  to  penitence  and  repentance  as  a  watering 
place.  If  good  cannot  come  out  of  evil,  nor  light  out  of 
darkness,  nor  laughter  out  of  sorrow,  neither  can  any 
thing  interesting  proceed  from  a  watering  place.  Never- 
theless, I  have  to  fly  to  my  pen  for  solace.  I  have  read 
till  reading  is  insufferably  tiresome — I  have  walked  till 
I  could  walk  no  longer — I  have  talked  till  I  am  tired 
hearing  my  own  voice  and  the  voices  of  others — I  have 
jumped  the  rope  till  I  have  blistered  the  soles  of  my 
feet,  and  made  my  hands  burn — I  have  drunk  the  waters 
until  I  shall  never  bear  to  hear  water  mentioned  again — 
I  have  danced  under  the  trees,  and  looked  on  in  the  old 
dancing-room,  till  dancing  is  worn  out — I  have  yawned 
till  I  have  nearly  put  my  jaws  out — and  I  have  sat  till 
I  could  hardly  keep  my  eyes  open,  looking  at  the  trees, 
the  hot  walks,  the  listlessly-wandering-about  people,  that 
look  ^s  if  they  could  take  laudanum,  hang  themselves, 
or  cut  their  throats,  "just  as  lief  do  it  as  not,"  if  it 
were  not  so  impolite  and  wicked  to  shock  people's  nerves 
by  perpetrating  such  dreadful  things  !  I  have  slept  till 
ray  eyes  won't  hold  any  more  sleep,  <and  are  swelled  and 
red  like  two  pink  pin-cushions.     I  have  rolled  ninepins 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  201 

till  I  have  nearly  broken  my  arm  -with  the  heavy  balls ; 
and  it  is  too  hot  to  sew,  to  knit,  to  net,  to  do  any  thing 
but  write !  This  I  can  do  when  all  other  things  fail. 
I  can  write  oflF  a  headache,  write  away  care,  and  bury 
miserable  thoughts  in  the  dark  depths  of  my  inkstand. 

Therefore,  Mr.  ,  I  fly  to  my  escritoire  for  relief 

from  the  tedium  which  everywhere  surrounds  me. 

It  is  just  half-past  twelve  in  the  morning.  Let  me 
describe  to  you  what  I  see  from  the  open  window,  before 
which  I  write.  Directly  in  front  is  a  broad  lawn,  inter- 
sected in  every  possible  direction  by  foot-paths,  some  of 
which  lead  to  the  dining  room,  others  to  the  bowling 
alley,  others  to  cottages  and  cabins,  others  from  these  to 
the  springs.  This  lawn  is  now  hotly  waving  in  the  un- 
dulations of  the  heated  atmosphere.  The  sides  and  roofs 
of  the  cabins  are  also  trembling  with  the  quick  waves 
of  rarified  air,  vibrating  along  their  sun-heated  superficies. 
A  solitary  negress,  in  a  blue  frock, — for  most  of  them 
dress  in  blue  check, — is  slowly  gliding  along  the  path 
from  the  spring,  with  a  jar  of  water  balanced  upon  her 
head,  for  her  mistress.  She  is  singing  in  a  low,  musical, 
unintelligible  tone.  She  is  the  only  moving  object  visible. 
At  the  foot  of  the  lawn  runs,  in  a  shadowy  coolness,  a 
brawling  brook,  now  flowing  like  a  melting  mirror  over 
a  smooth,  flat  rock — now  gurgling  in  a  dozen  mimic  falls 
of  white  foam — now  rushing  hoarsely  between  narrow 
channels — and  now  whirling  and  hissing  in  eddying 
circles  about  the  roots  of  a  tree  that  have  temporarily 
dammed  its  progress. 

Beyond  this  romantic  brook,  the  sight  of  which  is 
enough  to  cool  a  fever,  ascends  irregularly  a  green  bank, 
dotted  with  beech  and  birch  trees,  to  the  summit  of  a 


2^  THE   SUNNY  SOUTH;   OR, 

ridge,  along  which  winds  the  road  by  which  we  came  to 
the  Springs.  The  whole  scene  before  us  is  rustic,  quiet, 
and  wild,  and  would  have  been  pronounced  a  perfect 
wood-scene  by  good  old  Izaak  Walton ;  for  not  even 
trout  are  wanting.  There  sits  an  elderly  lawyer,  with  >. 
his  back  against  an  oak,  a  long  rod  in  his  hand,  the  hook 
at  the  extremity  of  which  has  been  baitless  for  the  last 
hour,  while  the  angler  sleeps  with  his  mouth  wide  open ; 
and  I  fancy  I  hear  his  sonorous  snore  mingling  not  un- 
harmoniously  with  the  guttural  noise  of  the  brook.  Not  . 
many  paces  from  him  is  stretched,  in  ponderous  length, 
a  huge  brown  horse,  his  head  a  little  cast  to  one  side,  as 
if  he  were  eagerly  listening ;  but  it  is  all  a  deception ;  a 
little  closer  scrutiny  will  show  you  that  his  large  eyes 
are  both  shut,  and  that  he  is  also  as  sound  asleep  as 
the  old  lawyer,  only  he  doesn't  hold  his  mouth  open. 
Brutes  always  sleep,  I  have  observed,  with  dignity.  An 
eastern  sase  has  said  that  men  and  beasts  are  on  a  level 
when  they  sleep  !  There  is,  doubtless,  something  deep  | 
lying  under  this  observation,  if  we  could  think  it  out ; 
but  it  would  take  other  heads  to  do  that !  The  bowling 
alley  is  in  full  sight.  Its  thunder  is  silent — its  thunder- 
bolts repose.  The  negro  boy  who  sets  up  is  now  lying 
down  upon  the  broad  of  his  back,  in  the  sun,  and  seems 
to  be  enjoying  sleep  as  only  an  African  can.  On  the 
benches  are  stretched  gentlemen  in  various  picturesque 
attitudes,  some  sleeping,  others  smoking,  and  idly  con- 
versing. The  air  is  so  still,  the  buzzing  of  the  flies  is 
heard  in  the  sunny  air,  like  the  distant  murmur  of  a 
busy  spinning-wheel.  The  mosquitoes  are  the  only  things 
that  seem  to  be  taking  time  by  the  fore-lock.  There, 
under  an  opposite  gallery,  reclines  a  fat  gentleman  in  an 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT  HOME.  203 

arm-chair,  and  doing  his  best  to  get  to  sleep,  in  order  to 
forget  that  he  is  at  these  horrid  Springs.  Now  he  slaps 
at  a  mosquito  with  his  right  hand,  then  he  hits  at  another 
with  his  left,  his  eyes  both  shut  all  the  while ;  now  he 
brings  his  fleshy  palm  down  upon  his  forehead,  with  a 
slap  loud  enough  to  wake  the  ancient  lawyer  with  the 
fishing-rod;  and  now  he  grumbles  out  a  half-choked 
oath,  and  throws  his  great  red  silk-handkerchief  over  his 
face.  But  I  see  they  bite  through  this,  for  he  kicks  out 
his  short  legs  in  a  kind  of  frenzy  of  desperation.  I  can 
see  the  Etna-like  tip  of  his  nose  pointing  upwards  under- 
neath the  handkerchief,  a  fair  mark  for  a  sharp  pro- 
boscis. A  shrewd  mosquito  has  found  the  place  vulne- 
rable, and  the  victim,  seizing  the  end  of  his  nose,  wrings 
it  as  if  he  were  wringing  off  the  head  of  a  chicken ;  at 
the  same  time  being  bitten  on  the  knee,  the  fat  gentle- 
man roars  and  kicks  fiercely  out,  and  the  chair,  which 
was  never  manufactured  for  such  trials  of  strength  as 
this,  refuses  longer  to  sustain  him  in  his  freaks,  and  dis- 
solves into  its  primitive  parts,  every  round  and  leg  unglu- 
ing  and  separating  from  its  bed,  and  letting  him  down 
bodily  amid  the  wreck  like  a  huge  globe  fallen  from  its 
sphere.  What  a  change !  Presto,  how  the  Springs  are 
alive  !  The  crash,  heard  all  around,  starts  fifty  sleepers, 
one  hundred  and  fifty  idlers,  two  hundred  dozers,  black 
and  white,  and  all  run  to  the  scene  of  disaster,  to  see 
what  has  happened ;  for,  at  the  Springs,  an  incident  is 

worth  five  hundred  dollars,  Mr. ,  if  it  is  worth  a 

dime.  The  fat  gentleman  finds  himself  the  cynosure  of 
all  eyes,  and  the  butt  of  all  possible  inquiries  of — 

"What  is  it?  How  did  it  happen  ?  Who's  hurt  or  killed? 
Bless  me,  my  dear  sir,  are  any  of  your  bones  broken?" 


2di  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

The  latter  inquiry  could  never  have  been  satisfactorily 
responded  to  by  the  fat  gentleman,  as,  without  doubt,  he 
had  lost  sight  of  his  bones  many  years  before,  under- 
neath the  masses  of  superincumbent  flesh  which  lay  larded 
eight  fingers  deep  thereupon. 

There  is  no  describing  the  effect  this  little  incident  has 
produced  upon  the  whole  circle  of  animated  life.  The 
bowlers,  once  aroused,  are  playing  at  mimic  thunder 
again — the  ancient  barrister  has  shut  his  huge  mouth, 
opened  his  eyes,  put  on  his  spectacles,  and  resumed  his 
occupation  of  fishing  for  subaqueous  clients.  The  old 
brown  horse  has  thrust  out  his  two  fore-legs  on  the  grass, 
and  pulled  himself  heavily  up  from  his  haunches  to  his 
hoofs,  and  begun  to  crop  the  sward.  The  cabins,  lately 
so  quiet,  resound  with  the  laughter  of  young  girls,  and 
the  octave  voices  of  ladies  calling  to  their  maids  to  pre- 
pare them  for  dinner,  for  the  hour  of  this  important 
event  is  at  hand.  In  half  an  hour  the  dancing-room 
will  be  filled  with  beaux  and  belles,  papas  and  mammas, 
buzzing,  and  walking,  and  gazing,  and  waiting  for  the 
dinner-bell.  We  shall  have  a  dinner,  such  as  it  may  bo, 
but  luxurious  enough  for  people  who  will  leave  pleasant 
homes  to  go  to  watering-places ! 

Ten  o'clock,  P.  M. 
The  day  is  past;  and  as  it  is  our  last  day  at  the 
Springs,  therefore  rejoice  with  me,  Mr. .  I  am  im- 
patient to  be  back  once  more  to  my  dear,  familiar  room, 
with  its  thousand  and  one  comforts.  I  want  to  see  my 
pet  deer,  my  doves,  my  squirrel,  my  flowers,  my  books, 
my  own  looking-glass,  for  I  don't  look  like  myself 
in  these  at  the  Springs,  which  look  as  if  they  had  been 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  205 

made  while  a  stiff  breeze  was  rippling  across  their  molten 
surface. 

I  write  to  the  measure  of  the  dance  in  the  hall,  and 
the  merry  jingle  of  violins  and  castanets.  The  young 
folks  are  enjoying  themselves  while  they  are  young. 
The  happiest  persons  I  saw  in  the  ball-room,  however, 
were  the  blacks.  You  who  live  in  a  free  State,  have  no 
idea  of  the  privileges  this  class  are  permitted  in  a  slave 
State  by  the  white  people.  They  stand  in  the  doors  and 
otherwise  vacant  places  of  the  ball-room,  and  laugh,  and 
are  as  much  at  home  as  "massa  and  missis."  They  go 
and  come  around  or  across  it  as  they  please;  a  favored 
aunty  will  even  ask  you,  "Please,  missis,  stand  dis  way 
little  bit,  so  I  can  see!"  and  "missis"  complies  as 
readily  as  if  a  lady  had  asked  her. 

One  reason  of  this  is  that  the  system  is  so  intimately 
interwoven  with  domestic  arrangements,  and  associations, 
and  habits,  that,  to  all  Southerners,  slaves  are  necessary 
appurtenances  in  all  places.  If  they  see  not  their  own 
slaves,  they  see  those  of  others,  and  pay  no  attention  to 
their  goings  and  comings.  The  slave  will  even  attend 
her  mistress  with  her  umbrella  or  cloak  to  her  pew,  and, 
leaving  them,  go  out  again  down  the  broad  aisle,  no  one 
noticing  her.  I  have  seen  slaves  sent  from  one  part  of 
a  church  to  another,  during  service,  without  attracting 
observation;  nay,  even  into  the  pulpit,  to  restore  the 
clergyman  his  pocket-handkerchief,  which  he  had  let 
fall.  But  in  the  North,  who  would  suffer  "negroes"  to 
appear  in  such  places  ?  A  Southerner  never  objects  nor 
thinks  of  objecting  to  the  presence  of  a  servant  any- 
where. I  might  travel  with  Edith  in  a  stage  from  Mem- 
phis to  Savannah,  and  not  a  Southern  gentleman  in  it 


THE   SUNNY   south;   OR, 

would  speak  of  it,  or  think  of  it;  wliile  from  a  New  Eng- 
land coach,  she  would  be  ejected.     Tell  me,  Mr.  , 

why  is  this  so?  How  is  it,  as  it  is  certainly  the  faet^ 
that  the  Northern  people  have  a  positive  dislike  for  the 
negro  ?     But  I  will  not  discuss  this  question. 

These  Springs  have  only  within  a  few  years  attracted 
attention.  They  are  embosomed  in  the  depths  of  a  wil- 
derness far  from  village,  or  civilized  habitation.  The  road 
by  which  we  reached  them  after  quitting  Mount  Pleasant, 
a  pretty  and  dirty  village  this  side  of  Ashwood,  lay  for 
tAventy-eight  miles  through  a  forest,  which  was  scarcely 
invaded  by  the  woodman's  axe.  For  fifteen  miles  we 
did  not  see  a  habitation.  The  solitude  was  grand.  The 
surface  of  the  country  was  undulating,  and  we  could  see 
long  vistas  into  the  depths  of  glens,  where  I  imagined 
lay  the  deer  in  covert,  and  where  once  crouched  the  wild 
beast  in  his  lair.  It  seemed  at  every  winding  in  our 
road  that  we  should  come  upon  some  Indian  hunter. 
But  the  red  man  was  not  there.  Wasted  "like  the 
April  snows  in  the  warm  noon,"  he  had  disappeared  be- 
fore the  sun  of  civilization.  Now  and  then  a  squirrel 
would  cross  our  path,  or  a  gray-plumed  woodpecker  star- 
tle the  echoes  with  his  busy  knocking  at  the  doors  of 
the  insects'  homes,  in  the  bark  of  the  trees,  for  them  to 
come  out  and  be  eaten.  Once  a  huge  black  snake  lay 
directly  in  our  path,  and  would  not  stir  till  Charles 
lashed  him  with  the  whip,  when  he  moved  off  as  deliber- 
ately as  if  he  did  not  care  for  us, — a  spice  of  the  old 
Eden  pride  of  power  left  in  him.  Of  all  things,  why 
should  a  serpent  have  been  made  use  of  by  Sathanas  to 
tempt  Eve?  It  were  more  likely  to  frighten  her.  Per- 
haps, however,  that  to  Eve,  before  the  Fall,  all  things 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  207 

(all  of  God's  creatures)  were  beautiful, — for  it  is  sin  only 
that  deforms  and  brings  deformity ! 

That  Eve  is  not  surprised  that  the  serpent  has  a  voice, 
is,  because  she  and  Adam  spoke,  and  it  was  natural  for 
her  to  suppose,  until  experience  taught  her  to  the  con- 
trary, that  all  brutes  were  likewise  gifted  with  speech. 
We  see  her  evince  no  amazement  at  the  vocal  powers  of 
the  serpent. 

Dear  me !  if  I  had  been  Eve — ^but  nobody  knows  what 
a  body  would  have  done,  had  a  body  been  Eve ! — the  pro- 
bability is,  that  I  should  have  eaten  two  apples  instead 
of  one. 

The  arrival  of  our  cavalcade  at  the  Springs  produced 
a  sensation,  as  new  arrivals  always  do, — but  nobody 
seemed  to  notice  its  size  and  variety.  Indeed,  since  we 
have  been  here,  quite  a  dozen  of  arrivals  quite  as  formi- 
dable in  largeness  of  retinue  have  occurred.  Nay,  one 
young  lady  had  a  wagon  bringing  up  the  rear  containing 
her  harp  and  guitar.  Some  of  the  parties  brought  an 
extra  wagon  for  baggage. 

Last  Saturday,  quite  a  horse  troop  of  lads  and  lasses, 
from  the  adjacent  country,  broke  in  upon  us  like  a  foray 
of  Highlanders  upon  the  lowlands.  Some  of  the  young 
men,  every  soul  of  whom  was  full  six  feet  tall,  brought 
their  rifles,  and  the  girls  an  extra  pair  of  shoes  for  a  dance. 
Some  of  the  girls  were  handsome,  but  bold  looking,  and 
with  very  fine  figures.  They  actually  took  possession 
of  the  hall,  and  danced  half  the  day ;  and  then  the  young 
men  went  down  to  a  level  meadow  and  passed  an  hour 
shooting  at  a  mark  at  fifty  and  eighty  yards ;  and  excel- 
lent marksmen,  I  am  told,  these  Tennesseans  are.  They 
are  brave  men  too !     There  is  a  look  of  quiet  resolution 


THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

about  them  that  gives  indications  of  that  martial  spirit 
which  the  trumpet  of  war  so  readily  awakes  in  their 
bosoms.  General  Jackson  was  not  so  much  one  individual 
as  he  was  the  repi-esentative  man  of  Tennessee.  All 
true  born  Tennesseans  are  more  or  less  like  him  in  as- 
pect, build,  courage,  and  indomitable  resolution.  They 
take  a  pride  in  him !  They  teach  their  children  to  imi- 
tate him !  His  name  was  the  most  stirring  war-cry  used 
by  the  Tennessee  legions  in  Mexico.  Not  long  since 
Isabel  was  at  a  party  where,  during  the  evening,  the 
bust  of  General  Jackson  was  brought  out  and  placed 
upon  a  pedestal  in  the  hall.  It  was  hailed  with  three 
cheers  by  the  lads,  and  crowned  with  flowers  by  the 
girls,  who  hand  in  hand  danced  around  it,  and  sang  with 
spirit,  -O-.)- 

"Hail  to  the  Chief!"  {^i| 

The  days  at  the  Springs  are  passed  pretty  much  alike^ 
— the  three  meals  being  the  most  important  points  of 
interest.  What,  with  bowling  and  quaffing  the  waters, 
dancing  and  walking,  sleeping  and  talking,  dressing  and 
eating,  fighting  the  mosquitoes,  and  watching  what  others 
do,  we  manage  to  kill  each  day,  but  are  half  killed  in 
our  turn.  To-morrow  we  leave.  All  is  excitement 
among  our  party.  Dickon  is  in  ecstasies,  and  when  he 
runs  he  turns  a  somerset  at  every  third  step.  Charles 
looks  happy.  Philip's  serene  face  shows  his  content. 
Edith  expresses  herself  heartily  tired  of  the  place,  albeit 

she  has  been  the  belle  here.     Do  not  think,  Mr. , 

that  the  "darker  shades"  of  our  party  do  not  find 
"reliefs."  Probably  there  are  here  two  hundred  ser- 
vants, belonging  to  the  various  families.  Now  as  people 
generally  travel  with  their  body  servants,  which  are  of 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  209 

a  caste  superior  to  the  rest,  of  course  at  the  Springs  they 
enjoj  the  elite  of  the  best  society  of  Darkeydom. 

The  position  of  each  colored  individual  is  indisputably 
fixed  by  that  of  his  master.  A  servant  of  the  President 
of  the  United  States,  would  of  course  be  recognized  as 
"fuss  class  airystokrasy"  by  his  fellow  servants.  The 
richer  and  more  respectable  the  master,  the  more  re- 
spectable the  man  or  maid.  Hence  our  colored  circle  is 
exceedingly  recherche.  "It  is,"  as  Edith  says,  "ob  de 
highest  exstinction." 

If  you  would  take  your  stand  near  the  spring  when 
they  come  down  after  pitchers  of  water,  you  would  wit- 
ness practical  politeness.     The  courtesy  of  Samuel,  the 

coachman  of  Dr.  W to  Mary,  the  maid  of  Mrs. 

Col. ,  as  he  solicits  the  honor  of  filling  her  pitcher  for 

her,  and  placing  it  on  the  polished  mahogany  veneering  of 
her  rounded  shoulders  of  the  brightest  brown  tint,  would 
edify  you.  The  polite  salaams  of  Jacob  to  Rachel,  the 
dressing  woman,  and  of  Isaac,  the  footman,  to  Rebecca, 
the  nursery  maid,  would  charm  you.  But  you  should 
see  the  aristocracy  of  the  shades  dining.  After  the 
masters  and  mistresses  have  left  the  dining  hall,  the  long 
table  is  relaid,  and  they  who  whilom  served  are  now 
feasted. 

I  have  been  twice  in  to  look  at  them.  Not  less  than 
one  hundred  Ethiopian  and  Nubian  ladies  and  gemmen 
were  seated  in  the  places  occupied  an  hour  before  by 
their  masters  and  mistresses.  The  entrees  were  con- 
ducted comme  ilfaut.  There  were  servants  of  "de  lower 
klass,"  scullions  and  ostlers,  boot-blacks  and  idlers,  to 
wait  on  them.  The  order,  courtesy,  civility,  and  pro- 
priety that  were  observed  at  the  table,  could  not  have 
14 


210  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

been  surpassed  at  a  dinner  at  Windsor  Castle :  on  the 
contrary,  thej  were  more  polite  than  people  at  a  Royal 
dinner.  The  bowing  and  handing  across  the  table  to  the 
ladies — the  "Shall  I  help  you  to  a  piece  of  de  tender 
loinjMissee  Cinderella?"  "Will  you  take  a  purtatur, 
Mistress  Betty?"  "Thank  you,  Mister  Thomas,  I  will 
if  you  pleases."  "Here  is  a  nice  slice  of  the  bres'  of 
de  turkey  for  you.  Missy  Arabella."  "Thankee  !  much 
obligated;  it  berry  nice.  Mister  Napoleon  Bonaparte." 
"Ladies  and  gemmen,  here  de  health  of  our  Massas  and 
Missesses,  and  may  dey  nebber  die  till  dere  time  come, 
an'  den  lib  forebber." 

This  toast  being  drunk  in  the  residue  of  claret,  there 
was  a  more  positive  set-to  upon  the  viands.  And  so  these 
black  rogues  dine  every  day  !     I  say  to  you,  truthfully, 

Mr. ,  the  slaves  in  this  state  seem  to  be  quite  as 

well  content  as  their  masters ;  in  fact,  are  only  second 
to  them  in  all  that  they  enjoy.  I  am  becoming  more 
and  more  reconciled  to  the  system ;  but  I  don't  think  I 
could  charge  myself  with  the  responsibility  of  owning  a 
slave.  Not  that  I  think  it  wrong.  The  Bible  allows  it. 
But  to  feel  that  a  human  being  was  mine  !  that  I  was  ac- 
countable to  him  for  his  happiness  and  comfort  here,  and 
to  God  for  his  soul's  weal  hereafter !  This  is,  I  think, 
one  of  the  most  responsible  filatures  of  domestic  servitude. 
"I  feel,"  said  an  intelligent  Christian  lady  to  me,  "I 
feel  more  deeply  the  weight  of  responsibility  which  the 
ownership  of  the  slaves  my  father  has  left  me,  places 
upon  me,  than  I  do  that  of  my  own  children.  I  tremble 
at  the  reflection  that  God  will  ask  their  soul's  lives  at 
my  hands !" 

The  sound  of  the  feet  of  the  dancers  has  ceased,  and 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  211 

silence  reigns  in  the  hall  so  lately  the  scene  of  merriment. 
Night  is  hushing  all  sounds.  Here  and  there  a  star  can 
be  seen,  twinkling  down  through  the  opening  in  the  trees. 
The  murmur  of  the  brook  reaches  my  ear  like  an  audible 
voice.  Some  sleepless  Orpheus  is  now  waking  the  si- 
lence with  an  ill-touched  flute.  Distant  laughter  of 
young  men,  at  cards,  or  wine,  comes  from  yonder  cabin. 
A  baby  is  crying  in  the  room  next  to  mine  !  I  hear  the 
sleepy  father's  growl,  and  the  patient  mother's  low 
"•hush."  A  mosquito  sings  in  my  ears,  and  another 
bold  wretch  has  bitten  me  on  the  hand.  These  are  warn- 
ings for  me  to  retire,  especially  as  we  are  to  make  an 
early  start  homeward.    So,  good-night. 

Kate. 


212  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 


LETTER    XXVI. 

OvKRTON  Park. 


Mr. : 

Once  more  in  my  own  room,  at  my  own  desk  and 
escritoire,  with  familiar  objects,  I  resume  my  pen  to  ad- 
dress you.  How  much  what  one  writes  depends  for  its 
character  upon  the  place  in  which  it  is  penned  ?  To 
write  at  ease,  I  must  have  everything  about  me  that  I 
have  been  accustomed  to.  I  must  have  my  light  ar- 
ranged in  just  such  a  way,  so  that  a  soft  radiance,  mellow- 
ing everything  in  the  room,  shall  fall  upon  my  paper, 
just  distinctly  enough  for  me  to  see,  yet  not  strong  enough 
to  distract  my  attention  by  glare.  I  must  have  perfect 
quiet,  too.  I  can  write  best  by  lamp-light,  a  shaded 
lamp,  with  the  light  thrown  softly  upon  the  paper.  In  a 
rainy  day  my  thoughts  flow  freest.  I  must  have  an  old- 
fashioned  goose-quill.  I  cannot  accustom  myself  to  a 
steel  pen.  It  trips  me  up,  and  I  have  an  awkward  way 
of  bearing  on  when  I  write  that  a  steel  pen  won't  yield 
to  with  sufficient  flexibility.  Half  the  people  in  this 
country  write  on  ruled  paper.  This  is  my  abhorrence ! 
I  don't  stop  to  notice  lines,  and  so  if  I  can't  get  any  but 
ruled  paper,  I  write  as  often  between  the  lines  as  on 
them.  I  was  taught,  fortunately,  to  write  straight  at 
school;  and  so  were  all  my  schoolmates  ;  and,  till  lately, 
I   supposed  everybody  could  write  on  unruled  paper. 


THE   SOUTHERNER  AT  HOME.  213 

But  when  I  was  last  in  Nashville,  I  went  to  three  book 
stores  on  an  unsuccessful  search  for  unruled  letter  paper. 
"  We  don't  keep  it — it  is  hardly  ever  called  for — every- 
body buys  the  ruled,"  were  the  answers  we  received :  but 
at  length  I  have  obtained  some  by  sending  away  for  it. 
The  colonel  says  he  has  seen  letters  both  from  Henry 
Clay  and  Daniel  Webster  written  on  lines.  This  is  no 
doubt  owing  to  the  accident  of  not  having  unruled  paper 
by  them.  It  is  school-boyish  to  follow  this  habit.  Cer- 
tainly no  young  lady  ought  to  be  considered  educated 
until  she  can  write  a  letter  on  paper  without  ruled  lines. 

My  last  epistle  left  me  just  on  the  eve  of  departing 
from  the  Springs.  Well,  we  did  leave  the  following 
morning,  taking  up  our  line  of  travel,  in  the  same  impos- 
ing caravanish  manner  in  which  we  had  come. 

Towards  evening,  after  a  cool  day's  ride  through  the 
forest,  before  described,  we  reached  the  little  town  of 
Mount  Pleasant,  which  is  situated  amid  the  loveliest 
scenery  possible.  Here  we  remained  all  night,  putting 
up  with  indifferent  accommodations.  This  village  ought 
to  be  the  prettiest  in  the  state.  But  its  population 
seems  to  have  no  taste  or  pride.  They  let  enormous 
hogs,  with  noses  like  ploughshares,  turn  up  their  streets, 
which  the  rain  converts  into  bog  holes;  they  neglect  to 
paint,  or,  at  least,  white-wash  their  fences ;  they  pay  no 
attention  to  the  neatness  of  their  front  yards ;  they  are 
without  passable  side-walks,  and  destitute  of  shade  trees. 
Why,  if  the  scores  of  idlers  we  saw  lounging  about  the 
shops  and  tavern,  would  go  to  work  for  a  week,  in  earn- 
est, they  might  make  their  town  truly  a  Mount  Pleasant, 
and  double  the  value  of  it. 

How  dirty  some  of  these  Western  towns  are  kept.     I 


214  THE  SUNNY  south;  or, 

feel  as  if  I  wanted  to  take  up  the  people  and  show  them 
the  New  England  villages,  as  they  show  children  Lon- 
don. I  am  told  the  citizens  are  intelligent  and  highly 
respectable;  how  then  can  they  sit  down  in  so  much  un- 
tidiness ?  Why  is  it  that  they  don't  know  that  rocks, 
barrel  hoops,  rails,  old  shoes,  old  hats,  boot  legs,  rags, 
broken  crockery,  and  such  trash,  disfigure  a  street,  and 
would  mar  the  finest  avenue  that  ever  ran  through  a  vil- 
lage?    The  worst  of  it  is,  Mr.  ,  Western  people 

don't  care  one  fig  for  the  opinion  of  strangers ;  while 
Northerners  live,  as  you  may  say,  for  the  eyes  of  others. 
Hence  the  attention  of  the  one  to  the  looks  of  everything 
about  his  house  and  town,  and  the  indifiference  of  the 
other  to  those  things. 

After  leaving  Mount  Pleasant,  our  road  lay  through  a 
sweet  valley,  along  the  margin  of  a  romantic  stream. 
The  scenery  Avas  charming.  In  the  course  of  an  hour's 
ride,  Isabel  selected  fifty  superb  sites  for  villas;  for  she 
has  a  penchant  for  looking  out  pretty  places  to  build  upon ; 
and,  for  that  matter,  so  have  I.  But  as  I  am  not  an 
heiress,  I  fear  the  only  house  I  shall  ever  call  mine,  will 
be  one  of  those  "mansions"  spoken  of  in  the  good  Book. 

About  nine  o'clock  we  passed  Ashwood  school,  nestled 
beneath  the  wooded  cone  of  Ken  Hill,  and  were  so  for- 
tunate as  to  meet  at  the  gate  the  learned  Professor  of 
Belles  Lettres,  Donald  McLeod,  Esq.,  of  Glasgow  Uni- 
versity,— a  gentleman  well  known  in  the  literary  con- 
stellation of  our  land.  He  is  said  to  possess  one  of  the 
most  scholarly  minds  in  this  country.  How  is  it  that 
all  Glasgow,  and  Dublin,  and  Oxford  men  that  I  meet, 
arc  so  much  better  educated  than  Harvard  and  Yale  men? 
Is  the  American  system  superficial?     One  would  think 


THE  SOUTHERNER  AT   HOME.  215 

SO.  The  most  eloquent  scholar  I  recollect  ever  to  have 
seen  was  a  graduate  of  the  University  of  Dublin.  I 
have  never  seen  an  American,  even  a  Professor,  who 
could  converse  fluently  in  Latin,  or  write  Greek  prose 
with  facility ;  yet  I  have  seen  many  from  the  above  Uni- 
versities do  both.  As  for  the  young  men  here  in  the 
West,  their  education  is  scarcely  deserving  of  the  name. 
There  is  not  a  college  in  Tennessee  of  much  higher  rank 
than  a  New  England  Academy,  and  ambitious  young 
men,  after  taking  degrees  at  these  Western  "Colleges," 
go  to  Harvard,  and  enter  Sophomore.  Perhaps  a  senior 
Harvard  man  would  have  to  enter  low  at  Oxford !  Who 
knows  ?  The  education  of  girls  West  is  far  beyond  that 
of  the  youths.  Expense  is  not  taken  into  account  where 
a  daughter  is  to  be  educated;  but  fathers  seem  to  think 
money  is  thrown  away  in  educating  boys.  Tennessee 
has  no  common  school  system  in  operation,  and  in  her 
capital,  hundreds  of  children  are  growing  up  wholly 
ignorant. 

Mr.  McLeod  was  accompanied  by  a  short,  little,  for- 
eign-looking old  gentleman,  with  gray  whiskers,  and  a 
demi-military  air,  who  was  over-dressed  like  a  French 
petit  maitre  of  the  ancient  school.  He  was  mounted  on 
a  large  gray  horse,  which  he  managed  with  a  skilled 
hand.  He  was  presented  to  us  as  "  The  Compte  Neolis." 
He  bowed  to  his  saddle  bow,  and  lifted  his  chapeau  with 
dignified  and  smiling  politeness,  and  said  he  was  "  our 
very  humble  servant." 

"Neolis,"  said  I,  thoughtfully,  "There  was  a  Gover- 
nor of  Rome  of  that  name,  sir?" 

"Yes,"  he  answered;  "that  is  me,  at  your  service, 
Miss,"  he  responded,  bowing. 


21$  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

I  gazed  on  him  with  curiosity,  for  I  now  recalled  to 
mind  that  General  Neolis  of  Rome,  was  commander  of 
the  Garde  Mobile,  which  was  composed  of  Knights;  and 
that  he  held  Rome  against  the  Spanish  troops.  This 
warrior  was  then,  in  person,  this  old  Knight  of  serenty 
now  before  me,  riding  by  the  side  of  the  carriage,  his 
riding  whip  and  bridle  in  one  hand,  and  his  open  snuff- 
box in  the  other.  As  we  passed  a  cart  which  was  dis- 
charging stone,  the  noise  alarmed  the  old  Count's  horse, 
and  he  had  an  opportunity  of  displaying  his  admirable 
horsemanship,  by  skillfully  restraining  the  fire  of  his 
animal ;  but  in  the  caracolling,  a  paper  was  released  from 
the  rider's  gaping  coat  pocket,  which  bursting  as  it  fell, 
strewed  the  ground  with  candy  and  bon-bons.  Then  he 
dismounted  carefully  to  gather  them  up,  smiling  good 
humoredly  at  the  mishap,  and  telling  us  that  he  always 
carried  them  when  he  went  to  the  school,  '■^pour  leg  en- 
fants."  We  found  him  social  and  amusing,  and  quite 
a  gallant  homme,  and  really  regretted  his  departure 
when  he  took  leave  of  us  at  the  marble  gate-way  of  Mon- 
mouth, the  residence  of  Mr.  A.  Polk,  where  he  resides. 
When  he  left  us,  he  bowed  to  his  horse's  mane,  and 
slowly  rode  up  the  avenue,  as  if  he  regretted  to  quit 
such  good  company  as  Isabel  and  me.  Mr.  McLeod  left 
us  previously,  to  call  at  St.  John's  Chapel.  From  the 
colonel  I  learned  that  the  Count  was  an  old  French 
exile;  that  he  was  a  nephew  of  Marshal  Ney,  and  had 
been  a  distinguished  oflScer  under  Napoleon.  That  he 
had  been  many  years  in  this  country,  had  ta.ught  at 
Germantown,  and  a  few  years  since  was  invited  to  take 
the  chair  of  Modern  Languages  in  the  Columbia  Insti- 
tute; but  that,  being  now  almost  too  old  to  teach,  Mr. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT  HOME.  217 

Polk,  with  genuine  Southern  hospitality,  has  invited  him 
to  become  an  inmate  of  his  house,  where  he  has  given 
him  a  home  for  life. 

The  Count  is  a  man  of  excellent  amiability,  and  a 
good  deal  of  simplicity  of  character ;  but  his  friends  say, 
as  his  memory  of  past  events  fails,  he  draws  a  little  on 
his  imagination,  and  they  sometimes  run  him  somewhat 
hard  upon  having  said  he  was  at  two  places  on  the  same 
day,  which  were  five  hundred  miles  apart,  doing  good 
fighting  at  both.  But  the  Count  takes  the  quizzing  in 
good  part,  shrugs  his  shoulders,  plies  his  snuff,  smiles 
ineffably,  and  says,  "Maybe,  jentilmen,  I  vas  mistake 
de  day.  But  vera  good !  You  may  laugh,  I  laugh  next 
time!" 

The  Count  is  fond  of  children,  for  whom  he  always 
has  his  pockets  full  of  cakes  or  candy ;  he  is  a  good 
"churchman,"  and  occasionally  still  teaches  the  French 
class  en  amateur  at  Ken  Hill  School.  May  he  live  a 
thousand  years !  if  his  generous  host  has  no  objections. 

After  passing  the  Ashwood  gate  and  post-office,  we 
drove  rapidly  into  Columbia,  a  distance  of  seven  miles ; 
and  by  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  we  once  more  be- 
held the  roofs  and  chimneys  of  Overton  Hall  towering 
above  the  oaks  which  environ  it.  How  delightful  the 
sensation  of  realizing  that  one's  wanderings  have  ceased, 
and  that  one  is  at  home  again !  It  is  worth  enduring 
the  discomforts  of  a  watering-place  a  short  time,  to  en- 
joy this  feeling.  Every  thing  seems  to  be  more  beauti- 
ful here  than  before.  And  how  many  changes  have 
taken  place  in  the  few  weeks  we  have  been  absent !  The 
peaches  have  ripened ;  the  apples  are  becoming  rosy 
red ;  a  new  set  of  flowers  have  made  their  appearance, 


218  THE   SUNNY  SOUTH;   OR, 

and  instead  of  the  little  eggs  which  we  left  in  the  mock- 
ing-bird's cage  are  three  innocent  little  things  that  look 
something  like  mice,  on  the  eve  of  feathering.  Then 
the  canaries  were  so  glad  to  see  us,  sending  forth  the 
wildest  and  most  joyous  carols  from  their  tiny  throats 
for  very  happiness.  The  rabbits  frisked  about  us,  and 
all  the  dogs,  "Tray,  Blanche,  and  Sweetheart,"  acted  as 
if  they  would  shake  their  tails  off  with  their  rough  and 
gyratory  welcomings,  running  around  and  around  us,, 
and  then  around  the  house,  chasing  each  other  in  full, 
race,  and  tumbling  and  rolling  over  the  grass,  from  sheerr 
excess  of  spirits.  Then  the  old  blind  war-horse  pricked 
up  his  ears,  when  he  heard  my  voice,  and  gave  three 
great  whisks  of  his  heavy  tail,  ending  with  a  low  whine 
of  joy.  But  you  should  have  seen  my  pet  deer,  thai 
once  wounded  invalid.  I  had  no  sooner  entered  the 
green  paddock  where  it  was,  then  it  came  bounding  to- 
wards me  with  long,  graceful  leaps,  and  would  fairly 
have  run  over  me,  if  I  had  not  stepped  aside.  As  it 
was,  it  gave  me  a  rough  and  honest-hearted  welcome, 
rubbing  its  nose  against  my  shoulder,  and  almost,  nay, 
I  very  believe,  the  rogue  tried  to  kiss  me,  but  this  salu- 
tation I  adroitly  escaped,  and  hugged  my  pet  about  the 
neck  in  lieu  thereof,  and  patted  its  shoulder.  But  this 
was  too  quiet  a  way  of  expressing  its  joy  at  seeing  me 
again ;  so  it  broke  from  me,  and  began  to  caper  about 
the  paddock,  flying  around  it,  then  across  it  at  right 
angles,  then  from  corner  to  corner,  and  then  miscellane- 
ously in  every  direction,  all  at  once,  and  finally  ter- 
minating this  mikra  mania  by  suddenly  crouching  at 
my  feet. 

But  the  best  welcome  of  all  was  that  from  the  scr- 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  219 

vanfcs.  They  flocked  around  the  carriage,  every  dark 
face  radiant  with  smiles,  and  exhibiting  ivory  enough 
for  half  a  mile  of  piano-keys  placed  in  a  row.  Jenny 
Lind's  reception  in  New  York  was  a  trifle  compared  with 
ours.  I  thought  they  would  shake  our  hands  off".  After  I 
had  been  a  little  while  in  my  room,  in  came  Aunt  Winny, 
the  fat  cook,  in  her  Sunday  fix,  having  rigged  up  to 
welcome  me,  being  too  particular  to  come  in,  in  her  work- 
ing dress.  She  seemed  so  glad  to  see  me,  and  said  it  so 
many  times,  that  I  did  not  at  all  regret  a  trip,  the  re- 
turn from  which  could  be  productive  of  so  much  simple 
and  hearty  joy.  She  then  told  me  how  they  had  all 
missed  us,  and  "  'specially  the  deer.  Missy  Kate,"  she 
added,  "  it  acted  just  like  a  human  a'ter  you  went  away, 
and  cried  a'ter  you  like  a  baby,  and  wouldn't  eat  noffin' 
for  de  fuss  two  days,  and  I  had  to  cook  it  someat  nice, 
and  coax  it,  and  then  'twouldn't  eat  till  I  made  Jake  put 
on  your  old  rainy  cloak  and  old  sun  hat  and  come  and 
stand  by  me,  to  make  b'lieve  it's  you,  you  know,  and  the 
simple  t'ing  begin  to  eat  right  off" I" 

At  the  idea  of  seeing  the  black  imp  Jake,  her  long-heeled, 
thick-lipped  son,  personating  me,  I  burst  into  a  hearty 
fit  of  laughter,  but  I  did  not  fail  to  compliment  Aunt 
Winny's  sagacity,  and  to  reward  her  solicitude  for  my  pet. 

All  is  now  as  it  was  before  we  left.  I  have  Isabel  at 
her  piano  again  before  breakfast,  practising  Jenny  Lind's 
songs  ;  the  colonel  goes  galloping  a-field  ere  the  dew  is 
off"  the  grass,  and  I  am  at  my  morning  studies  in  Ger- 
man as  before.  There  is,  however,  some  prospect  that 
ere  long  we  shall  make  another  excursion,  but  not  to 
any  watering-place.  The  colonel  will  have  to  visit  New 
Orleans  to  arrange  for  the  sale  of  his  cotton  and  tobacco, 


220  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

in  October,  and  he  has  invited  us  to  accompany  him. 
The  trip  will  be  a  delightful  one,  the  first  two  hundred 
miles  being  down  the  dark  flowing  Cumberland,  which  is 
described  as  one  of  the  most  beautiful  of  Western  rivers, 
then  on  the  Ohio,  and  thence  launched  upon  the  Missis- 
sippi, we  shall  keep  its  mighty  current  for  a  thousand 
miles.  The  idea  of  such  a  voyage  in  the  superb  steamers 
that  float  upon  these  western  waters  is  pleasant,  and  I 
have  no  doubt  that  we  shall  greatly  enjoy  ourselves. 
Yet  I  sigh  at  the  prospect  of  once  more  quitting  our 
retreat.  But  in  this  world,  says  the  wise  man,  "No- 
thing is  in  one  stay."  Every  thing,  indeed,  is  moving. 
The  earth  races  round  the  sun,  the  moon  around  the 
earth,  which  rolls  around  itself ;  Mars  and  Jupiter  chassd 
with  Venus,  and  the  sun  itself,  say  the  astronomers, 
marches  at  a  dignified  pace  around  some  unknown  cen- 
tre of  the  universe.  "Keep  moving,"  then,  being  the 
watchword  of  the  planets,  how  can  we  insignificant 
dwellers  thereon  but  follow  the  example  of  our  betters ! 
So  we  shall  go  to  New  Orleans. 

Whether  I  write  you  again  before  we  are  en  routes 
will  depend  on  circumstances.  I  promised  you  a  letter 
from  the  Hermitage,  and  this  you  shall  have,  if  possible, 
as  next  week  we  ride  over  there,  it  being  but  a  short  two 
hours'  gallop  across  the  country. 

I  am  glad  to  find  the  Americans  received  Jenny  Lind 
with  so  much  enthusiasm.  A  love  for  music  is  common 
to  men  and  angels.  It  allies  us  to  them  in  sympathies 
the  more  we  delight  in  song.  It  is  a  divine  talent,  and 
if  we  believe  the  Bible,  it  will  go  with  us  beyond  the 
grave ;  for  the  happy  beings  in  Paradise  are  represented 
as  singing  now  the  "  Song  of  the  Lamb,"  and  now  tho 


THE   SOUTHERNEU   AT   HOME.  221 

"New  Song,"  to  the  sublime  accompaniment  of  ten 
thousand  times  ten  thousand  angels  striking  their  harps 
of  gold,  saying : 

"  Worthy  is  the  Lamb  that  was  slain  to  receive  power, 
and  riches,  and  wisdom,  and  strength,  and  honor,  and 
glory,  and  blessing ;  and  every  creature  which  is  on  the 
earth,  and  under  the  earth,  heard  I  saying.  Blessing,  and 
honor,  and  glory,  and  power  be  unto  Him  that  sitteth  upon 
the  throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb  forever  ;"  and  they  ended 
this  celestial  chorus  by  casting  their  glittering  crowns 
before  the  throne  of  Him  who  liveth  forever  and  ever. 

It  is  a  hopeful  thing  for  a  nation  to  rise  up  as  one 
man,  and  do  homage  to  this  personification  of  earthly 
music.  They  do  not  so  much  worship  her,  as  recognize 
the  existence  in  her  of  the  perfection  of  that  which  be- 
longs to  humanity  en  masse,  but  is  vouchsafed  to  but 
one  in  a  generation.  To  see  them  doing  homage  to  her 
kindles  hope  for  the  elevation  of  our  country,  just  as 
following  in  the  chariot-wheels  of  a  conqueror,  with  his 
garments  rolled  in  blood,  would  darken  hopes  of  the  ad- 
vancement of  humanity.  One  thing  only  is  wanting  to 
complete  the  halo  of  glory  which  encircles  the  modest 
brow  of  Jenny  Lind.  It  is  to  consecrate  her  voice  by 
singing  therewith  one  Hymn  to  the  Being  who  endowed 
her  with  it.  Let  her  pour  forth  in  the  sacred  chaunts 
of  the  princely  David,  or  the  queenly  Miriam,  that  thril- 
ling voice,  and  our  souls  would  soar  on  wings  of  her 
songs  to  the  very  gates  of  Paradise.  Then,  indeed, 
would  she  be  able  to  prove  to  the  world  that  music  is  a 
"gift  of  God  wherewith  to  praise  Him." 

Yours  respectfully, 

Kate. 


222  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OK, 


LETTER   XXVII.  f 

Mr. :  ,0 

Dear  Sir, — A  residence  on  a  large  plantation  is  ion 
a  Northerner  rich  with  subjects  of  interest.  Every 
thing  is  so  different  from  what  he  has  been  accustomed 
to,  his  curiosity  is  continually  excited  by  the  novelties 
which  are  brought  before  him,  or  which  he  is  running 
his  face  against.  First,  there  is  the  slave  himself,  his 
condition,  his  cabin,  his  dress,  his  manners,  his  labors,* 
his  amusements,  his  religion,  his  domestic  relations ;  then 
there  is  the  plantation,  with  fences  a  mile  apart,  present- 
ing in  one  broad  enclosure  land  enough  to  make  a  score 
of  Yankee  pastures  ;  then  there  is  the  cotton-plant,  with 
its  rich,  pure,  white,  fleecy  treasures,  hanging  to  the  ga- 
thering hand ;  then  there  is  the  tobacco-plant,  with  its 
beautiful,  tender,  green  leaf  in  spring,  and  its  broad, 
palmetto-looking  leaf  in  autumn,  green  lined  with  brown  ; 
then  there  is  the  cotton-gin,  with  the  negroes  at  work  in 
it,  the  snowy  cotton  flying  from  the  wind-fans  in  fleecy 
eshowers  that  mock  a  December  snow-storm  !  then  there 
is  the  baling  and  screwing,  the  roping  and  marking  with 
planter's  name,  all  objects  of  interest  to  witness ;  then 
there  is  the  planter  himself,  so  different  in  his  manners, 
tastes,  education,  prejudices,  notions,  bearing,  feelings, 
and  associations,  from  the  New  England  man  ;  then  there 
is  his  lady,  accustomed  to  have  slaves  attend  upon  the 


THE   SOUTHERNER    AT    HOME.  223 

glance  of  her  eye  from  childliood,  commanding  and  direct- 
ing her  large  domestic  establishment,  where  the  food, 
clothing,  comfort,  and  health  sometimes  of  a  hundred 
slaves  depend  upon  her  managing  care ;  then  there  is- 
the  son,  who  is  raised  half-hunter,  half-rustic,  with  as 
much  hook  learning  as  his  pastimes  in  the  field  and  wood 
will  allow  him  to  turn  his  attention  to — the  idol  of  the 
old  negroes  and  the  hope  of  the  younger  ones^who  has 
never  seen  a  city,  but  may  one  day  walk  Broadway,  or 
Chestnut  street,  "a  fine  young  Southern  blood,"  with  a 
fortune  to  spend,  high-spirited,  chivalrous,  quick  to  re- 
sent an  insult,  too  proud  to  give  one,  ready  to  fight  for 
his  lady-love  or  his  country !  prone  to  high  living  and 
horse-racing,  but  at  home  courteous  and  hospitable  as 
becomes  a  true  country  gentleman ;  then  there  is  the' 
daughter  of  the  house,  too,  a  lovely  girl,  with  beautiful 
hands,  for  she  has  never  used  them  at  harder  work  than 
tuning  her  harp,  (and  hardly  at  this,  if  she  can  trust  her 
maid,)  who  rides  like  Di  Vernon,  is  not  afraid  of  a  gun, 
nor,  eke !  a  pistol,  is  inclined  to  be  indolent,  loves  to 
write  letters,  to  read  the  late  poets,  is  in  love  with  Byron, 
sings  Jenny  Lind's  songs  with  great  taste  and  sweetness, 
has  taken  her  diploma  at  the  Columbia  Institute,  or  some 
other  conservatory  of  hot-house  plants,  knows  enough 
French  to  guess  at  it  when  she  comes  across  it  in  an 
English  book,  and  of  Italian  to  pronounce  the  names  of 
her  opera  songs  !  she  has  ma's  carriage  at  her  command 
to  go  and  come  at  her  pleasure  in  the  neighborhood,  re- 
ceives long  forenoon  visits  from  young  gentlemen  who 
come  on  horseback,  flirts  at  evening  promenades  on  the 
piazza  with  others,  and  is  married  at  sixteen  without 
being  courted ! 


224  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH ;   OR, 

The  manners  and  customs  thus  enumerated  arc  quite 
different  from  those  at  the  North.     Let  me  describe  some 
of  the  more  striking  differences  a  little  in  detail.     Who 
ever  sees  an  old  gray-headed  gentleman,  mounted  on 
horseback,  and  a  spirited  horse  at  that,  galloping  along 
the  road  with  a  cigar  in  his  mouth,  in  New  England? 
Yet  we  never  ride  out  that  we  don't  meet  one  or  more 
gray-headed  planters,  booted  and  spurred, — sometimes, 
with  a  cloth  cap  on  when  the  day  is  windy, — trotting  to 
or  from  town  at  a  slapping  pace ;  and  followed  by  one 
or  more  dogs.     You  might  ride  all  over  the  state  of 
Connecticut  or  Massachusetts  without  seeing  the  like.. 
There  they  drive  about  in  chaises,  or  buggies,  or  carry-- 
alls.     Where  at  the  north  would  we  meet  elegant  coach eS] 
with  plaited  harness,  and  all  the  appointments  rich  and,- 
complete,  drawn  by  a  pair  of  mules  ?     Yet  here  it  is  an, 
every  day  occurrence  to  see  them,  for  mules  here  are 
highly  esteemed.     Where  in  the  North  would  fashionable 
ladies  ride  mules  ?    Yet  here  it  is  by  no  means  uncommon   4 
for  a  handsome  mule  to  be  preferred,  especially  by  timid 
persons.     To  what  rural  church  on  the  Sabbath  would 
every  family  come  in  its  own  carriage?     Yet  a  private 
carriage  stands  outside  of  our  church  for  every  family 
in  it. 

The  customs,  too,  are  different  in  respect  to  the  license 
given  to  daughters.  In  the  North  the  young  lady  is  left 
alone  with  her  beaux,  and  pa  and  her  ma  retire.  In  the 
South  it  is  deemed  indecorous  for  them  to  be  left  alone  by 
themselves,  and  the  mother  or  some  member  of  the  family 
is  always  in  the  room ;  and  if  none  of  these,  a  female  slave 
is  seated  on  the  rug  at  the  door.  This  is  a  relic  of  the 
Spanish  duenna  system.     Young  girls  are  kept  in  very 


THE    SOUTHERNER    AT    HOME.  225 

Strict  bounds  by  mammas  in  this  respect ;  and  I  was  told  by 
a  married  gentleman,  a  few  days  since,  that  his  wife  never 
took  his  arm  till  she  took  it  to  be  led  to  church  on  her 
wedding  day ;  and  that  he  never  had  an  opportunity  of 
kissing  her  but  twice  while  he  was  addressing  her,  (they 
were  six  months  engaged !)  and  in  both  cases  by  means 
of  a  stratagem  he  resorted  to  of  drugging  a  peach  with 
laudanum  which  he  gave  to  the  attending  servant,  and 
thereby  put  her  into  a  sound  sleep.  To  this  custom  is 
to  be  attributed  so  many  runaway  matches.  If  the  girls 
were  confided  in  by  their  mothers,  and  suffered  to  see 
and  become  acquainted  with  those  Avho  address  them,  they 
would  hardly  elope.  Freedom  of  intercourse  would  put 
an  end  to  these  clandestine  marriages.  I  like,  of  the 
two  customs,  the  Northern  best;  but  both  of  them  are 
carried  too  near  the  extreme.  I  know  several  young 
ladies  in  this  vicinity  who  have  told  me  that  they  were 
never  for  two  hours  out  of  sight  of  their  mammas. 

This  watchfulness,  by  and  by,  defeats  its  own  aim. 
The  lover  is  piqued,  and  begins  to  regard  the  whole 
matter  as  a  fair  field  for  strategy ;  and  instead  of  looking 
upon  the  mother  of  his  future  wife  with  respect  and  affec- 
tion, he  beholds  in  her  an  enemy,  whom  it  would  be  a 
victory  to  circumvent.  The  daughter  soon  begins  to  look 
at  it  in  the  same  view,  and  away  they  fly  together  to 
some  Gretna  Green. 

But  runaway  matches  seem  to  be  marked  with  Divine 
displeasure.  I  have  never  heard  of  a  happy  one.  Not  far 
from  us  resides  a  widow  lady,  who  eloped  from  an  excel- 
lent mother,  when  she  was  young,  with  a  worthless  young 
man.     She  is  now  the  mother  of  three  grown  daughters, 

every  one  of  which  has  eloped  and  left  her,  the  youngest 
15 


226  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

only  last  June,  at  fifteen  years  of  age,  and  she  is  left 
desolate  and  broken-hearted !  Thus  is  the  example  of 
the  mother  followed  by  the  children ;  and  whom  can  she 
blame  but  herself?  But  the  worst  remains  to  be  told. 
The  eldest  has  already  been  deserted  by  her  husband,  who 
has  gone  to  California,  and  she  last  week  had  to  seek 
shelter  in  the  home  of  her  childhood ;  the  second  daugh- 
ter is  suing  for  a  divorce,  though  she  has  not  been  thir- 
teen months  married.  Ah,  girls  !  never  in  an  evil  hour 
place  your  hand  in  that  of  the  young  man  who  would 
counsel  you  to  desert  your  paternal  home  !  It  is  cruel 
to  deprive  those  who  have  nourished  you,  and  with  sweet 
hope  looked  forward  to  the  happy  day  of  your  honorable 
marriage  beneath  their  own  roof ;  it  is  cruel  to  rob  them 
of  the  enjoyment  of  this  happiness.  It  is  their  right  to 
give  you  to  him  who  is  the  choice  of  your  heart.  It  is 
their  blessed  privilege  to  bless  your  union,  and  witness 
your  and  your  husband's  joy.  How  can  you  then  rob 
them  of  their  participation  in  that  joyous  bridal,  towards 
which  they  have  been  so  many  years  looking  forward? 
Daughters  who  elope,  wrest  from  their  parents  that 
crowning  joy  of  a  father's  and  a  mother's  life — the  gra- 
tification of  seeing  their  daughter  married  at  their  own 
fireside !  A  bridal  elsewhere  is  unnatural,  and  God's 
blessing  will  not  follow  it. 

There  is  a  custom  here  of  kissing  when  ladies  meet, 
that  seems  to  me  quite  a  waste  of  the  "raw  material," 
as  some  envious  gentleman  has  remarked,  doubtless  some 
bachelor  editor.  You  might  see  in  Boston  the  meeting 
of  one  hundred  pair  of  young  ladies  during  the  day,  and 
not  seven  couple  would  salute  each  other  on  the  lips. 
Yet  in  Tennessee  all  females  kiss,  old  and  young,  even  if 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  227 

tliey  see  each  other  as  often  as  every  day.  1  am  ac- 
quainted with  a  teacher  of  young  ladies  here,  who  says 
that  his  scholars  all  kiss  when  they  meet  in  the  morning ; 
and  he  has  seen  them  when  they  enter  late,  in  going  past 
several  girls  to  their  seats,  kiss  every  pair  of  lips  they 
pass  en  route.  At  church  doors  of  a  Sunday  there  is 
quite  a /^<s^7ac?e  of  this  small  arms.  There  is  a  warmth 
of  feeling,  a  heartiness  of  affection,  a  tenderness  of 
sympathy  in  the  Southern  ladies,  that  is  the  cause  of  all 
this.  The  Northern  ladies  are  cold,  without  question. 
They  are  also  better  scholars  where  mere  "book"  is  con- 
cerned. They  have  more  comprehensive  minds,  and  are 
more  intellectually  clever.  Southern  girls,  from  all  ac- 
counts, make  but  poor  book  students.  They  have,  how- 
ever, so  much  imagination  and  feeling,  that  they  converse 
with  brilliancy,  appear  well  and  under  an  indefinable 
grace,  peculiar  to  them,  can  veil  every  scholastic  defect. 
It  is  only  when  a  lady  takes  up  her  pen  that  her  real 
deficiencies  of  education  are  perceptible.  If  I  were 
asked  to  judge  of  the  acquirements  of  a  young  lady,  I 
would  say,  "Let  me  see  one  of  her  letters!"  I  know 
a  beautiful  girl  who  confessed  to  Isabel  the  reason  she  did 
not  answer  a  letter  that  she  wrote  to  her  from  the  Springs 
was,  that  "  she  did  not  know  how  to  write  a  letter  fit  to 
be  seen  !"  The  truth  is,  the  young  lady  was  always  in- 
dulged at  home  ;  went  or  staid  from  school  at  her  will ; 
reached  fourteen  without  being  able  to  spell  correctly ; 
was  then  mortified  to  have  her  defects  made  known  to 
her  schoolmates,  and  refused  to  go  to  school  longer. 
Her  father  is  the  Honorable  Mr. ,  and  she  is  exceed- 
ingly beautiful  and  interesting,  and  now  eighteen  years 
of  age.     The  pen  is  all  that  will  discern  her  deficiencies, 


228  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

and  this  she  will  probably  never  take  in  her  hands ! 
Being  brought  up  in  a  family  of  intelligent  persons,  she 
talks  well  !  Poor  girl!  what  mortifications  are  before 
her !  If  she  is  engaged  to  an  intelligent  man,  and  he 
should  address  her  a  letter  during  an  absence,  what  ex- 
cuse can  she  offer  for  not  replying  ?  If  she  marry  him, 
and  he  discover  her  imperfect  education,  how  mortified 
will  he  be  !  How  humiliated  she  !  Yet  it  is  her  own  fault ; 
and  scores  of  girls  in  this  country  are  walking  in  the 
same  path. 

Last  night,  we  were  seated  in  the  drawing  room,  lis- 
tening to  Mr.  Sargeant's  fine  song  to  Jenny  Lind,  sung 
by  Isabel,  and  also  set  to  music  by  her,  when  there  was 
a  sudden  commotion  among  two  or  three  young  ladies 
present,  and  dodging,  and  screaming,  and  throwing  hand- 
kerchiefs over  their  heads  !  A  hat  was  in  the  room  I 
Isabel  was  too  much  occupied  to  know  it,  and  kept  on 
playing,  while  the  velvet-winged  bird  of  dusk  darted  in 
elegant  curves  through  the  upper  air  of  the  room  with 
arrowy  swiftness.  It  was  almost  impossible  tb  follow  his 
gyrations  with  the  eye.  Two  young  gentlemen  present 
sat  very  stiffly  as  if  they  expected  to  be  hit ;  and  at  last 
the  bat  darted  directly  across  the  piece  of  music  before 
Isabel's  eyes.  In  an  instant  she  was  in  the  middle  of 
the  room,  with  a  handkerchief  thrown  over  her  hair,  and 
uttering  exclamations  of  slight  terror.  Here  then  were 
four  ladies  with  their  heads  picturesquely  covered  with 
their  lace  kerchiefs,  and  two  of  the  number  hiding  be- 
hind chairs,  and  a  third  behind  the  harp. 

"Bless  me!"  cried  the  colonel,  "is  it  possible,  girls, 
you  are  afraid  of  this  bat  ?" 

"  To  be  sure  !     Do  call  some  one  to  drive  it  out !" 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  229 

At  this  moment  a  second  bat  made  its  entree,  and  be- 
tween the  two,  I  thought  the  girls  would  go  wild.  Isa- 
bel, seeing  her  parasol,  caught  it,  and  opening  it  quietly 
sat  down  under  it  upon  a  low  stool,  awaiting  the  issue. 

"They  are  harmless!"  cried  the  colonel.  "They  do 
not  fly  in  here  to  eat  you,  but  mosquitoes,  which  they 
feed  on!" 

"Oh,  sir,  they  light  upon  the  head,"  said  the  pretty 
brunette,  behind  the  harp ;  "  and  if  they  once  get  in  the 
hair,  it  all  has  to  be  cut  off  before  it  can  be  detached 
from  it!" 

"They  have  barbs  all  over  their  wings  and  claws, 
colonel,  indeed  they  have,"  said  a  blue-eyed  girl,  who 
was  concealed  under  the  piano  cover; — "and  if  they — 
ah-h-h!"  she  shrieked  out,  as  one  of  the  bats  swept  past 
her  forehead ;  and  she  quickly  drew  in  her  face,  without 
waiting  to  finish  what  she  was  saying. 

"Where  were  you,  Kate?"  I  hear  you  ask,  Mr.  In- 
quisitive. 

I  had  been  reading  a  story  in  the  Knickerbocker 
Magazine,  before  Bel  commenced  singing;  and  still  held 
the  book  on  my  lap ;  but  I  neither  ran,  screamed,  nor 
covered  my  head ;  for  I  had  frequently  received  in  my 
room  such  twilight  visitors,  and  at  first  was  a  little  ner- 
vous, as  I  had  heard  such  terrible  accounts  of  their 
lodging  in  the  hair,  and  never  being  got  out  till  the  hair 
was  cut  off;  but  as  I  never  take  marvelous  stories  on 
hearsay,  I  one  evening,  seeing  that  they  did  not  harm 
me,  watched  the  motions  of  three  bats  that  were  together 
disporting  themselves  in  my  chamber.  I  saw,  after  a 
few  minutes'  observation,  that  their  movements,  instead 
of  being  erratic  and  uncertain,  and  aimed  to  annoy  me, 


230  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

were  governed  by  some  direct  object  in  view.  A  little 
closer  scrutiny  enabled  me  to  see  that  they  were  in  pur- 
suit of  mosquitoes,  which  flew  about  the  room,  and  that 
every  time  they  made  a  dart  they  caught  one  in  their 
mouse-shaped  jaws.  1  was  greatly  relieved  from  per- 
sonal apprehension  when  I  had  achieved  this  discovery; 
and  I  continued  my  writing  as  if  they  were  not  there, 
and  soon  forgot  their  presence.  At  length,  when  I  had 
completed  the  letter  I  was  writing  to  my  midshipman 
brother  in  the  Mediterranean,  I  looked  for  my  "birds," 
and  found  that  they  had  quietly  disappeared.  Since 
then  I  am  a  philosopher  when  a  bat  is  in  a  room. 

The  young  ladies,  however,  being  convinced  that  bats 
are  animated  combs  flying  about  for  a  head  to  fasten  in, 
would  not  be  persuaded  of  the  innocency  of  their  inten- 
tions. The  colonel,  therefore,  had  to  call  in  two  or 
three  servants,  to  drive  them  out,  with  brooms,  riding- 
whips,  and  what  not!  But  this  only  made  the  matter 
worse.  The  poor  things,  interrupted  in  their  mosquito 
hawking,  became  terrified  at  these  belligerent  manifesta- 
tions, and  sailed  low  to  avoid  the  blows  aimed  at  them 
in  the  air.  In  these  escapades  they  darted  under  the 
piano,  as  a  shriek  from  the  blue-eyed  hider  testified ;  and 
even  beneath  Isabel's  parasol,  as  a  sudden  scream  from 
her  bore  witness.  The  girls  were  now  in  despair.  The 
colonel  and  I  sat  laughing  and  looking  on.  At  length 
it  was  resolved,  as  bats  are  said  to  follow  lights,  to  take 
the  two  astral  lamps  out  upon  the  piazza.  The  drawing- 
room  was  darkened  in  vain.  It  was  the  mosquitoes,  not 
the  lamps,  that  attracted  them,  and,  if  any  thing,  the 
idea  of  their  flying  about  in  there  in  the  dark,  only  in- 
creased the  terror  of  the  terrified  girls.     Stir  out  them- 


THE   SOUTHERNER  AT   HOME.  231 

selves  the  girls  would  not.  The  young  gentlemen,  in 
the  meanwhile,  were  using  their  hats  to  try  and  knock 
the  enemy  down.  Twice  in  the  dark  I  felt  the  wind  of 
their  noiseless  wings  upon  my  cheek.  The  lamps  were 
ordered  back,  and  with  a  hard  battle  two  of  the  enemy 
were  laid  low,  and  the  residue  driven  forth. 

"Now,"  said  the  colonel,  after  the  girls  had  been 
twelve  times  assured  that  the  bats  were  hors  du  combat^ 
and  incapable  of  acting  as  combs,  either  fine  or  coarse, 
side  comb  or  back  comb,  and  holding  up  to  the  lamp  one 
of  the  dead  mosquito  hunters, — "I  wish  to  convince 
you  that  these  delicately-winged  animals  are  not  after 
you,  and  could  do  you  no  harm." 

Here  he  held  up  a  bat  to  the  light  by  its  extended 
wings.  The  sight  of  it  made  blue  eyes  crawl,  and  the 
brunette  utter  an  expression  of  detestation.  It  was  both 
ugly  and  pretty — its  wings  being  transparent,  and  ele- 
gantly constructed,  and  its  body  like  that  of  an  over-fed 
mole.  Its  head  was  small,  like  a  mouse's,  and  the 
colonel,  opening  its  jaws,  showed  its  sharp  teeth,  and  a 
little  pile  of  mosquitoes  under  its  tongue.  "You  see 
what  its  food  is!"  he  said.  "The  teeth  are  sharp,  but 
the  mouth  is  so  small  it  couldn't  bite  even  a  child's  finger. 
Now  look  at  its  claws.  They  are  sharp  and  curved,  to 
cling  by ;  but  the  curve  instead  of  being  barbed,  is  a  half 
circle;  and  whatever  the  claw  grasps  can  easily  be  re- 
leased from  it." 

"But  its  wings.  Look  at  the  horrid  thing's  wings!" 
exclaimed  blue  eyes. 

"Well,  let  us  examine  its  wings,"  said  the  colonel 
smiling.  "You  see  that  each  angle  where  the  joints 
articulate,  is  defended  by  a  small  hook — one  on  each 


232  THE    SUNNY   SOUTU;    OR, 

wing.  These  hooks  are  but  the  curve  of  three  quarters 
of  a  circle;  and  if  a  bat  should  light  upon  any  one  of 
your  heads,  and  hang  there  by  these  two  hooks,  he  could 
easily  be  disengaged  without  sacrificing  one  silken  strand 
thereof.     Let  me  try  it,  Bel!" 

But  Isabel  fled,  and  so  did  the  rest.  A  negro  boy's 
wooly  caput  being  at  hand,  the  colonel  placed  the  bat 
upon  his  crispy  poll,  and  haying  made  the  wings  take 
their  strongest  hold,  he  showed  us  how  easily  the  hold 
could  be  removed,  even  from  such  tangled  locks.  "  The 
use  of  these  hooks,"  he  added,  "  is  for  the  bats  to  hang 
to  each  other  by  in  winter,  when  they  swarm  together 
like  a  cluster  of  bees,  and  in  huge  masses,  many  feet 
in  circumference,  remain  in  torpid  suspension  until 
spring."  "'i"^^ 

The  young  ladies  at  length  professed  themselves  satis- 
fied, and  the  colonel  made  each  one  pledge  herself  never 
to  run  from  a  bat,  or  cover  her  head  again  if  a  bat  came 
into  the  room. 

Mr.  Sargeant's  beautiful  and  patriotic  song  was  then 
resumed  and  finished,  and  many  others,  and  the  evening, 
which  had  been  so  ludicrously  interrupted,  passed  off 
without  further  incidents. 

Yours  respectfully, 

Kate. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  233 


LETTER    XXVIII. 

Mr : 

My  Dear  Sir, — As  you  were  so  kind  as  to  express 
a  wish  that  I  should  write  for  you  a  series  of  traveling 
letters  on  my  route  South,  and  during  my  sojourn  in  the 
land  of  "  mocking-birds  and  sunny  skies,"  I  commence 
then  my  first  letter,  Avhich  like  all  "first  letters"  and 
prefaces,  I  fear  will  be  wofully  dull.  It  having  been 
decided  at  the  Park,  some  weeks  ago,  in  full  council  as- 
sembled in  the  colonel's  library,  that  we  should  all  go  to 
New  Orleans,  preparations  were  forthwith  set  on  foot. 

You  must  know,  that  the  colonel  takes  a  trip  every 
year  to  this  great  Southern  emporium  to  look  after  the 
sales  of  his  cotton  and  tobacco,  which  generally  precedes 
him  some  days,  but  he  usually  goes  alone.  On  this  oc- 
casion, however,  there  was  to  be  an  attraction  in  New 
Orleans,  such  as  it  or  any  other  city  could  have  but  once 
in  an  age.  Jenny  Lind  was  to  be  there  in  February! 
Therefore,  Isabel  won  her  father's  consent  by  dint  of 
coaxing  and  pretty  teazing,  and,  as  I  am  never  left  out 
of  any  party  of  pleasure,  "Kate  must  go  too." 

It  was  a  propitious  morning  when  the  family  coach 
drove  up  to  the  portico  of  the  mansion  to  receive  us, 
and,  I  was  going  to  add,  "our  baggage."  But  that  was 
so  enormous  in  magnitude,  the  baggage  of  two  girls, 
that  old  black  Peter  with  two  mules  harnessed  into  his 


284  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

red  wagon,  took  it  to  town  in  advance  of  us — having 
started  at  the  peep  of  day.  All  the  house  servants  came 
out  and  gathered  round  the  carriage  to  see  us  off.  The 
colonel  shook  hands  with  all  the  old  ones,  and  Isabel 
kissed  Aunt  Nannie,  her  old  African  nurse,  and  also  her 
mother's  nurse  before  her,  while  tears  jfiUed  the  beautiful 
eyes  of  the  maiden,  at  the  genuine  grief  of  the  old  woman 
at  parting  with  her. 

"Take  good  keer  o'  your  dear  blessed  self.  Miss 
Bella,"  she  said,  sobbing  as  if  her  ebony  heart  would 
break  in  two,  "  an'  don't  forget  old  aunty  what  lub  you 
better  dan  she  lub  de  life  in  her  own  ol'  body.  Don't 
fall  into  de  ribber,  and  may  de  Lord  bring  you  and 
massa  and  Missy  Katy  all  back  to  us  safe  an'  sound!" 

There  was  an  interesting  parting  aside,  between 
Charles,  the  colonel's  body  servant,  who  was  mounted 
on  a  fine  horse  to  follow  us,  and  his  young  wife  Mary ; 
and  also  a  tender  leave-taking  between  Isabel's  dressing 
maid,  Clara,  and  a  dark  Romeo,  to  whom  she  was  be- 
trothed, and  for  her  marriage  with  whom  Isabel  had  pro- 
mised to  purchase  her  a  wedding  dress  in  New  Orleans. 

After  the  parting  with  the  servants  was  over,  George, 
the  coachman,  at  a  signal  from  his  master,  flourished  his 
long  lash  over  his  horses'  ears,  and  away  we  went  roll- 
ing rapidly  from  the  door  along  the  smoothly-graveled 
avenue.  The  very  birds  seemed  to  sing  us  "good  bye" 
as  we  trotted  down  the  glades  of  old  trees  which  were 
vocal  with  their  notes.  The  last  thing  I  caught  sight 
of  was  my  pet-deer  thrusting  his  meek  face  over  the  pad- 
dock, looking  wistfully  after  the  carriage,  and  evidently 
having  an  intelligent  understanding  of  the  whole  matter, 
that  I  was  going  away  to  leave  him  for  a  long  time. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT  HOME.  235 

Perhaps,  however,  I  had  fully  made  him  to  comprehend 
this  before  I  got  into  the  carriage ;  for  the  first  thing  in 
the  morning  I  went  round  and  took  a  ceremonious  and 
touching  leave,  (don't  you  be  so  hard-hearted  as  to  smile, 

Mr. ),  of  all  my  pets.     I  said  a  few  kind  words  to 

my  squirrels,  fed  and  patted  my  rabbits,  embraced  the 
shaggy  neck  of,  and  almost  kissed,  old  Bruin,  a  famous 
large  black  dog,  with  an  eye  and  a  gravity  like  Daniel 
Webster,  and  a  voice  like  a  lion ;  and  the  deer  I  did  kiss, 
and  I  do  believe  that  the  poor,  gentle-hearted  animal's 
large  brown  eyes  filled  with  tears  at  the  farewell  tones 
of  my  voice.  He  seemed  to  comprehend  as  clearly  as 
if  he  had  been  a  human  being,  that  I  came  to  say  good- 
bye. He  rubbed  his  white  face  against  my  shoulder,  and 
followed  me  to  the  gate,  and  when  I  shut  it  against  him, 
there  was  a  look  of  sorrow  in  his  eyes  that  deeply  moved 
me. 

What  a  mystery  a  brute  creature  is  !  Have  you  not 
seen  a  horse,  or  a  deer,  or  a  dog,  act  as  if  a  human  soul 
were  within  its  body,  and  all  that  was  wanted  was  the 
gift  of  speech  to  express  its  love,  and  hands  to  embrace 
you  with  all  the  tenderness  of  friendship  ? — nay,  only  a 
human  form  to  be  your  faithful,  true,  and  loving  friend 
and  companion.  I  cannot  believe  that  the  souls  of  brutes 
perish  forever !  God  must  doubtless  have  for  them  a 
paradise  fitted  for  their  enjoyment,  and  adapted  to  their 
highest  capability  of  happiness.  The  Bible  has  certainly 
said,  "  God  shall  save  both  man  and  beast." 

Are  there  not  among  the  countless  worlds  of  stars,  and 
in  the  boundless  space  of  the  illimitable  universe,  place 
and  space  for  all  God's  creatures  to  live  and  be  happy 
in  ?     Shall  not  the  noble  horse,  doomed  to  the  lash  and 


289  TUE  su^NY  south;  or, 

dray  all  his  life,  have  compensation  in  a  universe  ruled 
by  a  God  of  equity  ?  Wise  men  say  that  this  earth, 
and  all  things  thereon,  from  man  down  to  the  lowest 
form  of  life,  is  a  type  of  Heaven.  If,  then,  in  the  world 
to  come,  there  are  "  spirits  of  men,"  there  must  be  "souls 
of  brutes,"  and  a  spiritual  form  of  everything  material. 
But  this  is  too  profound  a  theme  for  a  young  woman's 

pen,  Mr. ;  but  if  my  words  here  written  will  only. 

cause  some  to  look  more  kindly  upon  brutes,  I  shall  be 
glad  that  I  have  given  my  ideas  "  shapes  and  sen- 
tences." 

I  have  already  written  of  the  beautiful  scenery  which 
spreads  away,  on  either  hand,  from  the  turnpike  that 
conducts  to  the  city ;  of  the  pleasant  villas,  noble,  na- 
tural parks  in  all  their  aboriginal  grandeur,  and  sweet 
cottages  here  and  there  embowered  in  foliage  by  the  road- 
side. I  have,  also,  in  a  former  letter,  spoken  of  Nash- 
ville, of  its  architectural  elegance,  of  the  beauty  of  its 
females,  the  bevies  of  lovely  school-misses  that  throng 
the  streets,  the  chivalry  of  the  gentlemen,  and  the  hos- 
pitality of  all.     I  shall,  therefore,  not  detain  you  there, 

Mr. ,  but  drive  you  at  once  to  the  superb  steamer 

"America,"  which,  on  our  arrival  in  town,  was  lying  at 
the  upper  landing,  awaiting  her  passengers.  If  you  have 
never  seen  a  Western  boat,  you  have  yet  to  behold  the 
most  majestic  and  comfortable  river-steamer  afloat. 
They  are  constructed  and  arranged  on  a  plan  entirely 
difierent  from  the  boats  on  the  Eastern  waters.  They 
are  all,  also,  high  pressure ;  and  our  steamer  was,  at  in- 
tervals, bellowing  and  roaring  from  her  escape  pipe  with 
a  muttering  and  condensed  power,  which  showed  how 
terrible   is   the   strength   of  pent   up   steam.     Having 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  237 

reached  the  quay,  which  was  covered  with  enormous  hogs- 
heads of  tobacco  and  cotton-bales,  which  the  negroes,  in 
getting  them  on  board,  handled  with  great  dexterity  by 
means  of  iron  hooks, — making  our  way  through  this  up- 
roar of  commerce,  for  commerce  is  very  noisy,  all  the 
world  over,  with  its  thundering  wheels  and  "heave-o- 
yeo !"  we  gained  the  stage  which  led  on  board.  We  were 
met  at  the  landing  by  a  polite  and  handsome  clerk, 
who,  with  the  utmost  courtesy,  escorted  our  party  to  the 
cabin.  This  was  the  first  large  steamer  I  had  been 
on  board  of,  and  my  surprise  at  its  vastness  and  splendor 
was  no  doubt  visible  in  my  face.  We  first  entered 
the  boat,  not  as  in  the  East,  near  the  stem,  but  at  the 
bows ! 

We  were  then  conducted  up  a  broad  flight  of  stairs  to 
the  upper  deck,  which  was  a  spacious  portico  or  vestibule 
to  the  forward  saloon.  This  portico,  or  "forward  guard," 
as  it  is  called,  is  a  fine  spacious  promenade,  and  has, 
withal,  room  enough  in  the  centre  of  it  to  accommodate 
a  parapet  of  trunks,  which  rose  like  a  wall,  dividing  it 
in  halves.  We  thence  entered  the  saloon,  and  passed  a 
glittering  "  bar"  on  one  side,  and  a  range  of  state-rooms 
for  the  captain  and  his  clerks,  on  the  other,  all  fitted 
up  with  elegance  and  taste.  Beyond  this,  for  a  vast  dis- 
tance, extended  the  main  cabin,  which,  as  we  traversed 
it,  seemed  to  be  endless.  On  either  side  were  handsome 
doors,  placed  at  regular  intervals,  leading  into  state-rooms. 
The  whole  was  richly  carpeted,  hung  with  superb  chan- 
deliers, and  adorned  with  the  most  costly  furniture. 
After  we  had  walked  about  a  hundred  feet,  as  I  should 
guess,  we,  at  length,  through  a  suit  of  lofty  folding  doors, 
reached  the  ladies'   cabin,  which  was  full  one-third  the 


238  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

length  of  the  main  cahin,  and  more  tastefully  adorned. 
Sofas,  a  piano,  lounges,  rocking-chairs,  marble  tables, 
chandeliers,  and  candelabras,  made  up  the  several  details 
of  the  whole.  Still  farther  beyond  were  doors  opening 
upon  a  noble  verandah,  the  breadth  of  the  whole  stern  of 
the  boat,  and  overhanging  the  water. 

This  verandah,  as  I  afterwards  saw,  extended  quite 
around  the  boat,  on  both  sides,  and  uniting  with  the  por- 
tico on  the  bow,  made  a  continuous  and  delightful  pro- 
menade, broad  and  roomy,  for  several  hundred  feet, 
entirely  around  the  whole  extent  of  the  boat.  It  is  these 
verandahs  which  add  such  comfort  to  the  Western  boats, 
and  make  traveling  on  them  so  delightful.  In  descend- 
ing the  rivers,  one  can  sit  or  lounge  on  them  all  day, 
watching  the  scenery,  instead  of  being  enclosed  in  the 
cabins. 

There  is  another  agreeable  peculiarity  of  these  boats, 
which,  as  we  are  to  travel  together  some  days  on  one,  I 
wish  you  to  understand:  it  is  that  the  cabins  are  all 
above  the  main  deck,  raised  on  double  rows  of  columns 
high  above  all  the  freight,  and  all  the  "disagreeables" 
of  those  parts  of  the  boat  where  the  hands  and  the  emi- 
grants stay. 

There  are  properly  on  this  upper  deck  three  distinct 
cabins,  all  on  the  same  floor,  opening  one  into  the  other 
by  folding  doors;  the  forward  one,  "the  Social  Hall," 
or  smoking  cabin,  where  the  card-playing,  wine-drink- 
ing, and  politics,  go  on.  The  next  is  the  main  cabin, 
used  as  a  drawing-room  and  dining-room ;  and  the  third 
is  the  Ladies'  cabin.  In  the  day  time,  these  three  cabins 
are  thrown  into  one,  by  rolling  back  the  broad  leaves  of 
the  suits  of  doors,  and  the  coup  d!  ceil  from  one  end  to 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  239 

the  other  is  very  fine;  and  so  distant  is  the  view,  that 
one  can  hardly  recognize  an  acquaintance  who  is  at  the 
romote  extremity. 

The  interior  of  our  cabin  is  painted  white,  enamelled, 
and  polished  as  marble.  The  sides  are  ornamented  by 
rows  of  pilasters  with  gilded  capitals,  between  every  two 
of  which  is  a  richly  ornamented  door,  leading  into  a 
state-room.  Every  state-room  has  a  door,  not  only  from 
the  cabin  into  it,  but  a  door  that  opens  out  upon  the 
broad  verandah,  or  guard,  that  environs  the  boat.  This 
arrangement  is  very  convenient,  both  for  comfort  and  in 
case  of  danger.  At  evening  it  was  pleasant,  as  one 
walked  up  and  down  the  long  verandah,  to  see  the  occu- 
pants of  the  state-rooms  sitting  in  their  doors,  conversing 
or  looking  at  the  scenery,  like  dwellers  on  a  fashionable 
street. 

Besides  this  extensive  walk,  there  are  stairs  that  give 
access  to  the  "hurricane  deck,"  which  is  the  roof  of  the 
whole  boat,  and  as  it  is  but  very  slightly  convex,  and 
wholly  unobstructed  by  freight,  and  covered  with  a 
water-proof  composition,  which  is  sanded,  it  forms  one 
of  the  most  desirable  and  charming  twilight  promenades 
one  can  well  imagine ;  and  what  is  more,  a  promenade  in 
full  motion,  and  under  weigh,  passing  every  moment  new 
features  in  the  landscape. 

You  will  thus  perceive  that,  so  far  as  accommodations 
and  comforts,  to  say  nothing  of  luxury,  is  concerned, 
one  of  these  first  class  Western  steamers  afibrds  the 
very  perfection  of  interior  voyaging.  I  have  not  yet 
spoken  of  our  state-rooms,  which  were  not  so  much  state- 
rooms as  superb  apartments  with  broad-curtained  beds, 


240  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH:    OR, 

and  marble  and  mahogany  furniture,  and  as  complete  as 
rooms  in  a  "first  rate"  hotel. 

It  was  on  board  this  floating  palace  that  our  party 
took  passage  for  New  Orleans,  usually  a  six  or  seven 
days'  voyage,  the  distance  being  about  fifteen  hundred 
miles.  It  was  late  in  the  day  when  the  last  passenger, 
the  last  bell,  the  last  clerk,  and  the  last  plank,  came  on 
board,  and  the  dashing  of  the  monster  wheels,  as  they 
revolved  in  starting,  took  the  place  of  the  muttering 
thunder  of  the  suppressed  steam,  and  the  signal  tolling 
of  the  heavy  bell,  which  for  an  hour  had  risen  above,  yet 
mingling  with  all  the  other  sounds  and  uproars  of  the 
quay.  We  are  now  fairly  under  weigh,  and  I  bid  you 
"good  night." 

Respectfully,  yours, 

Kate. 


THE    SOUTHERNER    AT   HOME.  241 


LETTER    XXIX. 

Steameb  "Aherica,"  Ohio  River. 


My  Dear  Mr. : 

This  is  our  third  day  en  voyage.  How  delightful 
this  mode  of  traveling,  surrounded  by  all  the  enchant- 
ments of  an  elegant  home,  as  we  are  in  this  floating  pal- 
ace !  The  manner  in  which  we  pass  our  time  is  more 
like  that  of  so  many  guests  in  a  nobleman's  villa,  could 
you  imagine  one  floating  down  the  Belle  Riviere,  as  the 
French  missionaries,  who  first  launched  their  light  canoes 
upon  its  tide,  picturesquely  designated  the  Ohio.  But  I 
have  learned  the  true  Indian  name  for  the  river,  which 
is  far  prettier  than  that  given  by  the  good  father  Hen- 
nepin. It  is  Ohi-o-lee-pee-chinn,  or,  put  together,  Ohio- 
lepechin.  It  sounds  sweetly  and  musically,  and  it  means 
exactly  what  the  French  name  does,  "River  of  Beauty." 

Not  far  above  us  is  the  celebrated  Pirate's  Cave  on 
the  bank,  its  dark  mouth  half-concealed  by  over-hanging 
trees.  It  is  a  romantic  spot,  and  with  the  adjacent 
scenery  of  cliff",  woodland,  and  river,  would  form  a  pic- 
ture, if  justice  were  done  it,  striking  enough  to  hold  no 
mean  rank  in  the  galleries  of  your  Art  Union,  that  enor- 
mous Beaux  Arts  Lottery. 

This  cavern  had  in  former  times  a  very  naughty  repu- 
tation.    Some  romantic  fellow,  with  a  score  of  reckless 
followers,  held  possession  of  it  for  many  months  before 
16 


242  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

the  introduction  of  steamers  on  the  river,  and  levied  black 
mail  on  all  the  descending  and  ascending  trading  boats. 
Many  a  tale  of  hard  contests  between  the  parties  is  told 
in  the  vicinity,  and  some  of  these  legends  are  sufficiently 
stirring  and  wild,  to  have  captivated  even  the  magical 
pen  of  Cooper. 

The  shores  of  the  river  are  varied  as  we  descend  from 
the  Cumberland,  by  rock  and  woodland,  and  many  a 
lonely  nook  where  one  would  love  to  dwell  in  some  sweet 
cottage  was  presented  to  the  eye  as  we  steamed  past. 
Towards  noon  we  approached  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio. 
The  river  now  widened  and  expanded  its  bosom  every 
league,  as  if  it  would  give  the  Father  of  Waters,  as  it 
neared  him,  a  false  idea  of  its  greatness,  as  small  men 
always  stretch  up  and  stand  on  tip-toe  when  they  talk 
with  a  tall  man. 

"You've  never  sailed  down  this  river  afore.  Miss,  I 
guess,"  said,  respectfully,  an  elderly  man,  with  long, 
gray  hair  floating  over  the  shaggy  collar  of  his  coarse, 
blue  overcoat,  who  was  standing  near  me  on  the  upper 
deck,  as  I  was  gazing  upon  the  shores,  and  straining  my 
vision  to  behold  the  distant  Mississippi. 

"  This  is  the  first  time,  sir,"  I  answered. 

"  So  I  thought  the  way  you  look  at  every  thing,  Miss," 
he  answered.  "  I  have  been  up  and  down  too  often  to 
find  any  thing  new  in  the  'Hio,  or  Massissippi  either, 
for  that  matter.  The  first  time  I  was  on  this  river  was 
in  eighteen  hundred  and  three." 

"So  long  ago!"  I  repeated.  "This  was  before  the 
time  of  steamboats." 

"  Lor'  bless  you,  Miss,  steamboats  wasn't  then  thought 
on.     We  used  to  go  in  them  days  in  keelboats  and  flats ; 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  243 

and  a  pesky  long  voyage  it  was  to  Orleens  then,  and  as 
for  coming  up,  I've  done  in  six  days  in  a  steamboat  what 
thirty  years  agone  it  took  me  six  months  to  do ;  that  is, 
come  up  from  Orleens  to  Louisville.  Steam  is  a  mighty 
'vention,  marm,  but  it  blows  up  a  mighty  sight  o'  people !" 

Here  the  old  pilot,  for  such  he  was,  took  a  flat  cake 
of  tobacco  from  his  pocket,  wrapped  up  in  a  dingy  piece 
of  oil-cloth,  "to  keep  the  strength  in,"  as  he  said,  tore  a 
flake  of  it  off  with  his  thumb  and  forefinger  with  a  skill- 
ful but  indescribable  movement  of  the  hand,  thrust  it 
into  his  jaws,  and  deliberately  returned  the  cake  to  his 
huge  pocket. 

"It  must  have  been  safe  and  pleasant  voyaging  in 
those  days,"  I  remarked. 

"Yes,  Miss,  it  was  tol'rable.  But  it  was  mighty 
slow.  Then  we  had  our  dangers  to  run.  Thar  was  the 
snags,  agen  which  our  boat  would  sometimes  run  and 
get  turned  over  or  sunk ;  there  was  the  bars  we'd  get 
onto,  and  lay  there  till  the  boat  rotted ;  there  was  the 
wild  Indians,  as  sometimes  used  to  shoot  us  off  when  we 
ran  too  near  the  shore,  and  then  down  in  the  low  coun- 
try there  was  them  Spanish  and  French  desperattys,  as 
used  to  dart  out  of  the  creeks  and  bayous,  twenty  black- 
lookin'  chaps  in  a  long  snakish-looking  boat,  all  armed, 
and  attack  us  and  rob  us  if  we  didn't  fight  hard  to  save 
our  plunder.  Then  a'ter  a  three  months'  voyage  down, 
we'd  be  took  with  the  yaller  fever  in  Orleens  an'  die,  or 
we'd  lose  all  our  money  a  gamblin',  for  we  boatmen  them 
days  played  cards  dreadful  bad,  and  lost  a  mint  o'  mo- 
ney in  Orleens." 

"  You  must  prefer  steamboating,  then,  to  this  old  way 
'  of  trading,"  I  said. 


244  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

"  Wall,  I  don't  know  'bout  that,  Miss !  I  like  both 
on  'em,  but  if  had  ray  choice  I'd  rather  keelboat  it. 
Old  times,  to  my  notion,  is  the  best  times.  I  don't  see 
as  men  or  the  world  is  any  better  for  steamboats,  and 
railroads,  and  the  telegraphy,  and  such  things.  One 
thing  I  know,  it's  a  mighty  deal  wickeder  world  than 
when  I  was  a  boy  !" 

Here  we  passed  a  few  houses  forming  a  hamlet,  and 
landing,  on  the  right  bank.  Upon  asking  my  communi- 
cative friend  what  place  it  was,  he  answered : 

"  That,  marm,  is  Trinity,  six  miles  from  the  mouth. 
Do  you  see  that  tall  sycamore,  the  tree  with  the  bark 
white  as  your  handkerchief  eenamost,  that  stands  just 
under  that  bank?" 

"  Yes ;  it  is  a  very  large  and  noble  monarch  of  the 
forest,"  I  answered,  as  I  gazed  upon  one  of  the  most 
magnificent  trees  I  have  ever  seen,  beneath  the  shade 
of  which  a  regiment  might  have  reposed. 

"  I  don't  know  about  monarchs.  Miss  !  This  is  a  free 
country,  and  we  don't  'How  even  our  trees  to  have  kings. 
There  is  a  grave  beneath  that  tree  !"  he  added,  impres- 
sively. "  You  can't  see  it,  nor  I  nuther,  for  it's  all 
smoothed  and  over-growed  long  ago ;  but  right  under  it 
lies  buried  a  young  woman,  which  I  never  see  that  tree 
without  thinking  of  her,  and  wonderin'  who  she  was. 
She  was  not  more  nor  twenty,  but  she  had  seen  sorrow 
and  trouble  enough  for  a  lifetime.  We  took  her  on 
board  forty  years  ago  it  will  be  next  month,  at  Louis- 
ville. She  was  dressed  as  a  young  lad,  but  none  of  us 
guessed  she  was  a  woman.  She  spoke  broken  English, 
said  she  wanted  to  work  her  way  to  Orleens.  So  we 
put  her  to  cookin'.     She  was  so  gentle  and  kind-spoken  " 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  245 

we  all  liked  him,  I  mean  her.  But  one  morning  when 
the  day  broke,  just  as  we  were  floating  down  about  here, 
we  found  her  lying  dead  on  the  front  part  of  the  boat, 
with  a  dagger  buried  in  her  heart.  It  was  a  small  dag- 
ger, with  a  silver  hilt,  sich  as  I  had  seen  in  Orleens 
among  them  pesky  Spaniards.  We  didn't  know  who  did 
it.  But  we  buried  her  there.  I  dug  the  grave  myself. 
There  was  foul  play  somewhere.  One  of  our  people 
said  he  had  heard  something  swimming  about  the  boat 
in  the  dark,  but  supposed  it  was  a  deer  crossing  the 
river,  as  they  often  did  in  them  days,  and  there  was 
prints  of  a  man's  wet  feet  upon  the  boards  of  the  deck, 
and  I  always  believed  some  enemy  had  followed  her 
down  the  river,  and  swum  off  and  murdered  her.  But 
it's  always  been  a  mystery  to  me ;  but  no  doubt  it'll  all 
turn  up,  marm,  at  judgment-day !" 

Here  the  boat  rounded  to  for  the  purpose  of  taking  on 
board  some  passengers,  and  the  pilot  left  me ;  but  I  stood 
and  gazed  long  and  silently  and  sadly  upon  the  green 
grave  of  the  beautiful  stranger,  whose  secret,  as  the  pilot 
had  said,  was  locked  up  with  God.  It  was  a  quiet, 
shaded  spot.  A  wild  grape  vine  had  festooned  itself 
above  the  grassy  bed  of  the  wanderer,  and  a  few  wild 
flowers  grew  upon  it.  Ah!  indeed,  how  many  secrets 
will  the  judgment  day  reveal ! 

How  profoundly  the  unknown  slept !  The  hoarse  roar 
of  the  escaping  steam,  the  shouts  of  the  voices  of  the 
crew,  the  oaths  of  the  mate,  the  dashing  of  the  huge 
wheels  into  the  water^  the  hurry,  bustle,  and  confusion — 
how  they  all  contrasted  with  the  unbroken  stillness  of  that 
green  spot,  which  death  had  made  sacred !  As  our  boat 
resumed  her  way,  I  lingered  with  my  eyes  upon  the 


246  THE   SUNNY  SOUTH;   OK, 

grave,  above  which,  perched  upon  the  grape  vine,  a  robin 
had  alighted  and  was  singing.  Sweet  sufferer  of  a  former 
day !  Though  forty  years  have  passed,  thou  art  not  for- 
gotten !  Thy  memory,  cherished  in  the  rough  bosom  of 
the  old  pilot,  shall  live  in  many  hearts  to  whom  my  feeble 
pen  shall  relate  thy  brief,  sad  history.  Many  a  loving 
heart  and  sympathizing  bosom  shall  feel  and  beat  in 
kindly  sympathy  for  thee,  as  thou  reposest  in  thy  lonely 
grave  beside  the  murmuring  tide  of  the  River  of  Beauty. 

At  this  moment,  while  I  was  still  gazing  on  the  snowy- 
armed  sycamore,  a  fashionable  young  gentleman,  who 
had  been  made  acquainted  with  us,  approached  me,  and 
said,  with  a  glance  of  contempt  towards  the  old  pilot : 

"What  rude  fellar  was  that.  Miss  Conyngham,  that 
presumed  to  address  you  without  an  introduction,  as  I 
presume  you  had  not  the  honor  of  his  acquaintance? 
You  must  pardon  the  ignorance  of  these  Western  men ! 
They  are  quite  beyond  all  forms  of  good  society !  Didn't 
he  annoy  you  excessively?" 

"On  the  contrary,  I  was  much  interested  in  his  con- 
versation," I  answered,  with  some  point  in  my  tones. 
"  He  has  ideas." 

"Ah!  ideas?"  repeated  the  exquisite,  who  had  sense 
enough  to  comprehend  what  I  wished  him  to  appre- 
hend, "you  are  inclined  to  be  severe,  Miss  Conyngham. 
But,  Miss  Isabel  says  you  are  a  wit." 

"Indeed !  You  should  be  obliged  to  her  for  giving  you 
'ihe  information,  for  you  know  wits  are  very  dangerous 
people  to  some  folks." 

"Yes,  I'm  afraid  of  witty  people,"  he  answered,  finger- 
ing his  glossy  whiskers,  and  then  smoothing  the  glossy 
silk  of  his  hat.     "Do  you  know,  Miss  Conyngham,  that 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  247 

there  is  a  new  style  of  hat  coining  into  fashion?  The 
brim  is  to  be  an  inch  wider  than  this — which  is  the  latest 
style,  and  it  is  to  turn  up  slightly,  just  the  least  bit  in 
the  world,  all  round,  even  in  front !  And  the  band  is  to 
be  full  two  inches  wide.  You  see  what  an  effect  this 
will  produce !  This  band  is  but  an  inch  and  a  quarter. 
And  then  the  hat  is  to  bell  out  full  at  the  top !  It  strikes 
me  that  it  will  be  a  superb  affair.  But  more  than  all,  it 
is  made  of  such  material  as  to  contract  or  expand  to  the 
head  of  the  wearer,  fitting  each  bump  perfectly,  so  as  to 
give  no  uneasiness;  but,  so  far  as  that  is  concerned,  I 
never  experienced  any  uneasiness  from  this :  my  head  is 

nicely  balanced.     Dr. Dr. what's  his  name  ? 

— once  passed  his  fingers  over  my  head,  and  pronounced 
it  a  model  of  equilibrium.  If  I  have  one  bump.  Miss, 
more  prominent  than  another,  I  conceive  that  it  is — is 
combativeness.  Yes,  I  have  a  great  belligerent  pro- 
pensity. But  it  is  kept  in  check  by  an  equal  amount  of 
prudence;  otherwise,  I  have  no  doubt,  I  should  have 
fought  not  one  less  than  forty  duels  in  my  life !  I  see, 
Miss,  you  are  admiring  my  watch  seal,"  (which  the  ex- 
quisite was  twirling  and  trying  to  make  me  notice).  "  It 
is  of  California  gold,  solid!  So  is  the  chain.  Had  it 
made  to  order! — This  massive  ring,  too,  is — " 

Here  the  old  pilot  returned,  and  said  abruptly,  without 
taking  any  notice  of  the  person  talking  to  me, 

"You  see.  Miss,  that  little  clump  of  trees  on  that 
knoll  to  the  left?"  and  he  pointed  with  his  large,  brown 
hand. 

The  fop  looked  daggers  at  him  !  But  there  was  a  calm 
self-possession — a  certain  native  dignity  about  the  rough- 
coated  old  pilot,  that  commanded  his  respect  and  vver- 


248  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

awed  his  combativeness,  or  I  don't  know  what  horrid 
scene  might  have  ensued,  unless  the  bump  of  "prudence" 
should  come  in  to  counteract  the  predisposition  to  com- 
bativeness. Prudence  did  its  duty !  The  exquisite, 
after  trying  to  annihilate  the  old  river  Neptune  with  a 
look  which  was  lost  on  him,  turned  away  with  an  equal 
contempt  in  his  equally-balanced  mind  both  for  me  and 
the  pilot. 

"  Ill-bred  !  Vulgar  tastes  !"  I  heard  him  mutter,  as 
he  moved  off, — terms  of  his  indignation,  which  were 
doubtless  intended  to  be  divided  equally  between  my 
friend  in  the  shaggy  pilot  coat  and  myself. 

The  clump  of  trees  were  peculiar  and  marked  by  their 
isolated  position,  standing  in  advance  of  the  rest  of  the 
shore,  quite  down  into  the  water. 

"  I  see  them,  sir!"  I  answered. 

"There  is  a  different  story  I  could  tell  you  about 
them;"  he  said,  as  if  alluding  mentally  to  what  he  had 
narrated  about  the  sycamore  tree. 

"  I  should  like  to  hear  it !"  I  replied. 

"  It  ain't  a  long  one.  Few  words  and  to  the  point," 
he  answered,  as  he  pulled  off  a  fresh  flake  of  tobacco 
from  the  diminished  mass  which  he  carried  wrapped  up  in 
the  oilskin.  "  I  saw  three  men  shot  by  the  shortest  of 
them  trees ;  under  that  ere  limb  that  hangs  partly  over 
the  water." 

"Shot !"  I  repeated,  with  horror. 

"  Nothing  less,  Miss ;  it  was  during  the  war  with  the 
English.  Some  troops  were  going  to  New  Orleans  to 
help  Jackson,  and  three  of  'em  deserted  and  were  caught, 
tried,  and  shot  there,  all  in  one  hour,  by  Col.  Mead,  the 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  249 

officer  who  commanded  the  fleet  of  boats.  They  were 
buried  under  that  red  bank  thar !  One  of  'em  was  a 
mere  lad !  He  prayed  for  his  widowed  mother,  that  the 
Great  God  above  would  give  her  strength  to  bear  the 
news,  and  then,  while  the  tears  shone  on  his  cheeks,  he 
bared  his  white  breast  to  the  guns,  and  the  next  moment, 
six  bullets  were  tearing  up  the  tender  flesh  and  crashing 
into  his  body.  He  fell  dead !  But  one  of  the  others 
leaped  his  height  into  the  air  with  a  fearful  oath,  and 
then  ran  for  the  river  to  jump  in :  but  he  fell  dead  on 
the  grass.  Ah,  Miss,  still  and  quiet  as  that  pretty  little 
clump  of  trees  looks  now,  with  the  birds  a  singing  in  it, 
it  has  witnessed  scenes  you'd  hardly  have  guessed  if  you 
hadn't  been  told.  Jist  so  it  is,  marm,  with  human  natur. 
You  see  a  man  walking  quiet-like,  and  with  a  steady  lip 
and  eye  among  his  fellows  ;  but  if  he  should  tell  you  what 
he  had  gone  through  in  his  day,  you  would  see  that, 
though  there  are  pleasant  groves  like  in  his  heart,  and 
the  birds  sing  in  them,  scenes  have  passed  there  that 
would  make  us  sad  if  they  were  told  us. 

"  But,  Miss,  here  we  are  close  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Ohio,  and  in  a  few  minutes  will  be  in  the  Mississippi. 
If  you'd  like  to  get  a  better  look  of  the  grand  sight  of 
the  meetin'  of  the  two  greatest  rivers  in  America,  you'd 
better  go  forward,  and  up  into  the  pilot  house,  for  it  is 
the  highest  part  of  the  boat,  and  you  can  see  wider  and 
farther." 

I  thanked  my  new  friend,  and  sending  for  Isabel  and 
the  colonel,  I  was  escorted  by  the  hardy  old  river  man, 
with  a  politeness  that  exquisites  might  imitate,  to  the 
elevated  throne,  standing  upon  which  the  helmsman  go- 


250  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

verns  the  movements  and  directs  the  course  of  our  mighty  f 
steamer. 

In  mj  next,  I  shall  endeavor  to  give  you  my  impres- 
sions of  "  The  Meeting  of  the  Waters." 

Yours, 
Kate. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  251 


LETTER    XXX. 


Dear  Mr. : 

How  shall  I  describe  to  you  the  profound  impression  of 
sublimity,  so  that  you  may  have  some  adequate  conception 
'  of  it,  which  the  sight  of  the  "meeting  of  the  waters"  had 
upon  me  yesterday  ?  To  see  the  union  of  the  Missis- 
sippi and  Ohio  is  worth  a  voyage  thus  far.  It  is  one  of 
tlie  sublimest  spectacles  a  traveler  chances  to  meet  with. 
Everything  was  propitious  to  present  to  our  view  the 
junction  in  all  its  grandest  features.  Both  rivers  were 
of  equal  height :  the  Mississippi  dark  and  turbid,  the 
Ohio  clear  and  of  a  green  tint.  As  our  steamer  entered 
upon  the  last  mile  of  the  Ohio,  I  could  see  with  a  glass, 
with  which  my  good  friend,  the  pilot,  provided  me,  the 
line  which  marked  the  boundary  between  the  two 
waters.  As  we  drew  nearer  and  nearer,  and  at  length 
passed  out  from  between  the  arms  of  the  Ohio  into  the 
bosom  of  the  Father  of  Waters,  I  was  surprised  and  de- 
lighted to  find  that  we  still  were  borne  on  the  tide  of  the 
former,  although  fairly  within  the  shores  of  the  latter. 

For  nearly  two  miles  after  we  had  entered  the  Missis- 
sippi, we  kept  in  the  green  waters  of  the  Belle  Riviere, 
which,  pushing  and  compressing  the  murky  flood  of  the 
other  to  half  its  breadth,  contested  the  right  of  way  to 
the  mile-broad  channel  with  it..  The  line  between  the 
waters  that  flowed  from  the  Alleghanies  and  those  which 


I 


252  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

had  come  from  the  Rocky  Mountains  was  distinctly  pre- 
served for  a  long  distance  by  their  different  hues ;  and 
in  order  to  gratify  Isabel,  the  helmsman,  at  one  time, 
steered  so  that  we  sailed  directly  on  the  line  of  demarka- 
tion — the  green  tinted  waves  of  the  Ohio  being  on  our 
left,  and  the  muddy,  brown  waves  of  the  Mississippi  being 
on  the  right — the  keel  of  our  steamer  dividing  them 
equally. 

But  after  we  had  descended  about  two  miles,  the  supe-^vi 
rior  strength  of  the  Mississippi  began  to  show  itself.' I 
The  old  Father  of  Rivers,  as  if  he  had  merely  out  of  j 
courtesy  suffered  the  Belle  Ohio  to  occupy  his  channel  | 
for  a  little  while,  now  began  to  assert  his  claims  to  the  I 
whole  breadth  between  the  banks.  Here  and  there  the  i 
turbid  under  current  would  force  itself  up  to  the  surface  | 
of  the  waters  of  the  Ohio,  and  exhibit  everywhere  great  \ 
circular  patches  of  floating  mud.  These  soon  flowed  to-  |i 
gether  and  commingled ;  and  at  length  the  green  current 
of  the  Belle  Riviere  became  all  muddy  and  turbid,  lost  its  | 
individuality,  and  was  absorbed  in  the  mighty  rolling  I 
flood,  whose  domain  it  fain  would  have  held  in  copart-  : 
nership.  It  was  full  a  league  below  the  mouth  before  j 
the  union  was  so  complete  that  we  lost  the  last  trace  of  ! 
the  peculiar  tint  of  the  lesser  and  clearer  stream.  It  j 
was  wonderful  to  see  how  completely  one  vast  river  had  | 
been  swallowed  up  by  another;  and  yet  neither  had  the  ij 
huge  gormandizer  grown  larger,  widened  his  banks,  or|| 
deepened  his  channels;  and  so  this  mammoth  of  rivers  { 
goes  on  to  the  sea,  a  thousand  miles  southAvard,  taking 
in  a  score  of  rivers  at  a  yawn,  and  never  showing  signs 
of  his  voraciousness ! 

"Now,  Miss,"  said  the  old  pilot,  who  seemed  greatly 


I!  THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  253 

to  enjoy  my  admiration  of  the  spectacle,  "now  we  are 
fairly  on  the  Mississippi !    You'll  find  it  a  wild  water, 
marra ;  and  the  shores  al'ays  keep  the  same  as  you  see 
'em   now, — forests,    and    nothing    else.     Five   hundred 
i miles  farther  down  you'll  see  no  difference.     A  picture 
iof  the  river  taken  here,  and  one  after  we  've  sailed  on 
•  it  three  days  more,  will  look  both  exactly  alike ;  it  would 
1  take  a  man  pretty  well  used  to  the  river,  if  he  was  taken 
up  from  one  place,  and  put  in  another  a  hundred  miles 
I  farther  down,  to  know  he'd  changed  places." 
.    The  sun  set  with  a  splendor  that  I  have  never  before 
i  beheld.     The  river  at  the  time  was  flowing  west  for  full 
five  miles  in   a  straight  line,   and  the  whole   distance, 
illumined  redly  by  the  sun  at  the  end  of  the  vista,  shone 
like  a  burnished  lake  of  gold;  while  the  black  forests  on 
either  shore  formed  a  fine  frame  to  the  whole.     These 
"reaches"  and  bends  of  the  river,  which  it  forms  every 
few  leagues  as  it  flows  now  west,  now  east,  now  doubling 
back  northwardly,  gives  the  Mississippi  the  character  of 
a  chain  of  lakes,  each  from  three  to  seven  miles  long, 
and  always  the  unvarying  breadth  of  about  four  thou- 
sand feet. 

There  is  something  terrific,  as  well  as  majestic  in  this 
vast  moving  flood.  Its  surface  is  never  quiet.  Repose 
it  knows  not.  It  is  agitated  by  myriads  of  whirlpools, 
and  here  and  there  rushes  along  without  any  apparent 
cause,  with  additional  velocity,  and  a  roar  like  rapids ; 
yet  there  are  nothing  like  rocks  in  its  bed,  and  its  depth 
is  fearful  everywhere.  I  had  heard  that  a  person  falling 
into  it,  would  never  rise  again.  I  therefore  questioned 
my  friend  the  pilot  upon  this  interesting  point. 

"They  do  say  so.  Miss,"  politely  answered  a  hale  old 


254  THE   SUNNY  SOUTH;   OR, 

man  who  was  steering,  and  removing  his  quid  from  hia 
mouth  out  of  respect  to  me,  and  thrusting  it  for  safe 
keeping  into  the  cuff  of  his  drab  jacket,  the  stained  look 
of  which  showed  that  it  was  an  ordinary  reception  place 
for  such  things ;  "but  it  an't  al'ays  true,  'cept  in  high 
top  floods.  Then  I'd  be  sorry  to  fall  overboard.  Most 
usual  there  is  an  under  current  as  sucks  a  man  right 
down,  and  before  he  can  battle  agen  it  and  get  up  to  the 
top,  its  all  over  with  him.  Besides,  the  water  is  aVaya 
so  muddy,  it  chokes  up  a  man  'mazin'  quick.  But  in 
low  water,  why  a  man  can  swim  tolerable  fair  in  thia 
river ;  but  its  better  to  keep  on  board  if  he  can,  and  nol 
tempt  it ;  for  old  Massassap  is  a  mighty  ugly  customer  to 
trust  oneself  to,  at  any  time, — 'mazin'  treacherous  an<l 
oncertain!" 

Although  the  evening  shades  fell,  and  the  supper  bell 
rung,  I  could  not  leave  the  deck.  The  western  sky  was 
a  paradise  of  glory,  a  heaven  tinted  with  every  hue  of 
beauty.  Amid  a  clear  space  of  pure  greyly  the  evening 
star  hung  like  an  amethyst  set  in  emerald.  The  waters 
shone  like  living  gold.  The  gloomy  shores  grew  darker 
and  more  mysterious.  The  stars  came  out  overhead. 
From  our  two  tall  black  chimneys  rolled,  billow  on  bil- 
low, sable  clouds  of  smoke  mixed  with  sparks,  which,  as 
they  covered  the  skies  over  us,  gave  one  an  idea  of  the 
heavens  on  fire,  and  the  stars  loosened  from  their  spheres. 
The  regular  boom  of  the  breathing  engine  echoing  from 
shore  to  shore,  the  dash  of  the  monstrous  wheels  creating 
a  continual  foaming  cataract,  which,  mingling  astern, 
formed  a  mad  wake  of  whirlpools — the  onward,  life-like, 
ever-pressing-forward  motion  of  the  swift  steamer,  which 
carried  me  with  two  hundred  other  souls  through  all  this 


THE   SOUTHERNER  AT   HOME.  255 

scene  of  novel  beauty  and  strange  grandeur,  bound  me 
to  the  deck,  and  forbade  my  thoughts  and  soul  turning 
to  anything  else. 

At  length  night,  in  all  the  glittering  glory  of  her 
starry  beauty,  reigned.  Leaning  upon  the  arm  of  the 
colonel,  while  Isabel  hung  upon  the  other,  I  walked  the 
upper  deck  till  a  late  hour.  Showers  of  sparks  were 
sailing  away  in  the  air  every  moment,  and  some  of  them, 
keeping  their  brightness  longer  than  others,  we  loved  to 
imagine  shooting  stars,  which  they  closely  resembled. 
Many  would  descend  in  graceful  curves  to  the  surface  of 
the  river  far  astern,  and,  lighting  upon  it,  be  at  once 
extinguished.  Others  would  ascend  and  move  in  a 
spiral  path  higher  and  higher,  as  if  they  fain  would  scale 
heaven,  and  take  their  place  among  the  fixed  stars, 
which  looked  no  bigger  than  they.  We  also  amused 
ourselves  in  watching  the  woodmen's  lights  on  the  shore 
— large  fires  built  at  the  points  where  wood  for  steam- 
ers was  to  ^e  found.  These  signal  fires,  which  were 
visible  on  both  sides  from  a  mile  to  a  league  apart, 
had  a  fine  efi'ect  upon  the  imagination.  It  seemed  as  if 
our  midnight  way  was  voluntarily  lighted  by  some  kind 
beings  of  the  main  who  wished  us  "good  luck"  on  our 
voyage,  and  desired  that  we  should  prosecute  it  in  safety. 
The  pilot  related  to  the  colonel  a  very  remarkable  use 
which  he  once  made  of  these  lights  on  the  shore. 

"We  were  coming  up  from  Orleans  in  a  thick  fog," 
said  he.  "The  night  was  dark  as  pitch.  We  could  not 
land  in  safety,  as  it  blew  hard.  Our  only  chance  was  to 
keep  in  the  middle  of  the  stream  and  run  for  it.  These 
woodmen  at  that  time  did  not  light  their  signal  fires  till 
they  heard  a  boat  ring  her  bell,  as  a  token  that  it  wanted 


256  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

wood.  You  would  then  see  a  score  of  fires  kindled  along 
a  stretch  of  four  miles  or  so.  We  could  discern  no  fires 
to  guide  us,  or  tell  us  Avhere  either  shore  was ;  so  I  rang 
the  bell  as  a  signal  for  wooding.  The  next  minute  a  fire 
blazed  up  through  the  fog  on  the  left  bank,  quarter  of  a 
mile  ahead ;  and  a  half  a  mile  above  upon  the  other  shore, 
shone  another  like  a  star  in  the  dog-days.  By  these  we 
were  enabled  to  steer;  and  every  quarter  of  an  hour  I 
tolled  my  bell,  as  I  ascended  the  river,  and  fire  after  fire 
would  blaze  up,  one  on  this  shore,  one  on  that.  In  this 
way  we  ran  all  night,  full  a  hundred  miles,  lighted  by 
these  signal  fires,  which  we  made  these  poor  fellows 
kindle,  supposing  we  were  coming  in  to  take  in  wood; 
but  the  rogues  ought  to  have  done  us  this  service,  as  they 
live  and  get  rich  by  steamboats."  ■  MtTm 

It  was  late  when  we  left  the  deck  to  return  to  our 
state-rooms.  During  the  night  I  was  awakened  by  the 
noise  of  a  steamer  passing  us.  Looking  from  my  state- 
room door,  I  saw  its  red-mouthed  furnaces  glare  through 
the  gloom,  lighting  up  half  the  river's  breadth,  the  dark 
figures  of  the  firemen  looking  like  so  many  demons  as 
they  cast  the  fuel  into  them.  It  was  a  magnificent  sight, 
and  a  fearful  one,  to  see  the  huge,  roaring,  dashing, 
booming,  thundering  monster  go  past,  with  noise  enough 
to  awake  the  Seven  Sleepers,  while  the  shores  and  the 
sides  of  our  vessel  re-echoed  and  redoubled  the  sublime 
uproar.  The  next  moment  she  was  past,  and  darkness 
and  a  rocking  motion  succeeded.  I  observed  at  the  bow 
of  the  boat  two  fiery  red  lanterns,  elevated  on  high, 
which  serve  as  guides  to  the  pilot,  and  to  show  the  posi- 
sition  of  the  boat  to  other  pilots  in  the  night.  Our  boat 
has  a  blue  and  a  crimson  one.     Unaccustomed  to  the 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT    HOME.  257 

motion  and  working  of  the  machinery,  it  was  long  past 
midnight  ere  I  was  able  to  fall  to  sleep. 

This  morning  we  found  ourselves  at  New  Madrid,  once 
the  capital  of  the  Spanish  empire  of  the  West,  but  now 
a  hamlet  of  a  few  houses.  The  place  has  been  destroyed 
by  an  earthquake,  and  what  remains  of  it  is  falling  into 
the  river  by  detachments.  Street  after  street  has  broken 
off  and  gone,  until  but  one  remains.  The  whole  country 
is  deeply  fissured  by  the  shocks  which  occur  every  few 
weeks.  We  learn  that  ten  days  ago  there  was  so  severe 
a  one  that  an  acre  of  the  front  of  the  town  fell  into  the 
river,  and  chairs  and  tables  in  houses  were  thrown  down. 
Such,  however,  is  the  force  of  habit,  and  "getting  ac- 
customed to  shaking,"  as  the  man  said  who  had  the  ague 
twenty-four  years,  that  the  citizens  do  not  mind  these 
shocks;  but  take  them  as  they  come,  as  they  do  the 
storms  and  wind,  and  the  other  ordinary  phenomena  of 
nature. 

We  had  a  very  amusing  scene  occur  this  morning,  just 
before  day!  There  is  a  young  bear  on  board,  belonging 
to  a  Missourian,  who  is  taking  him  down  to  x'Vrkansas,  to 
his  sweetheart,  he  told  me.  The  "  exquisite"  had  evinced 
some  apprehension  about  him,  and  expressed  it  to  me 
more  than  once,  that  he  feared  he  might  "get  loose  and 
perpetrate  some  mischief." 

Well,  sure  enough,  at  daylight  this  morning,  the  whole 
cabin  was  aroused  by  such  an  uproar  and  screaming  as 
you  never  heai-d!  "The  bear!  the  bear!  the  bear  is  in 
my  state-room!"  was  shrieked  in  tones  of  mortal  horror. 

Upon  flying  to  the  scene  of  terror  and  to  the  rescue,  it 
proved  to  be,  that  a  gentleman,  who  from  a  paralytic 
stroke  has  not  for  several  years  been  able  to  speak,  was 
1^ 


258  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

now  on  his  way  to  the  Hot  Springs  to  endeavor  to  effect 
a  cure.  But  there  are  times  when,  if  he  attempts  to 
laugh  he  sends  forth  the  most  appalling  spasmodic  sounds, 
between  a  yell  and  a  howl,  with  a  sprinkling  of  awful  groans, 
all  mixed  up  together  in  one, — sounds  unearthly  and 
terrific,  and  therefore  enough  to  alarm  anybody  of  stout 
nerves.  This  poor  gentleman  was  put  into  the  lower 
berth  of  the  state-room,  which  my  exquisite  occupied. 
Towards  morning,  the  paralytic  being  awake,  heard  his 
neighbor  in  the  next  state-room,  in  stepping  out  of  bed, 
put  his  foot  into  his  wash-pitcher,  and  at  the  accident 
swear  so  oddly  that  it  excited  his  risibles  to  an  un- 
governable extent.  The  result  was  a  laugh  that  was  a 
compound  of  the  roar  of  a  bear,  the  howl  of  a  wolf,  and 
the  yell  of  a  hyena,  which,  the  more  he  tried  to  suppress 
it,  the  worse  it  became.  The  young  fop  Avas  positive 
the  bear  had  got  into  his  room,  and  calling  on  him,  in 
his  best  vernacular,  to  prepare  to  be  eaten  up. 

When  the  facts  became  known  there  was  a  good  hearty 
laugh  at  the  young  man's  expense,  but  the  paralytic 
gentleman  being,  as  the  colonel  observed,  maliciously 
tempted  by  the  enemy  of  our  race  to  join  in  it,  produced 
a  second  and  improved  edition  of  his  vocal  performances, 
that  filled  all  who  heard  him  with  consternation. 

To  morrow,  we  expect  to  be  at  Memphis. 

Yours, 

Kate. 


TUE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  259 


LETTER    XXXI. 

Suburbs  op  Natchez. 


Dear  Mr. : 

We  have  at  length  reached  Natchez,  and  I  write 
once  more  from  a  plantation,  but  one  situated  in  Mis- 
sissippi instead  of  Tennessee,  and  in  the  bosom  of  the 
most  opulent  and  cultivated  portion  of  the  South.  I  have 
already  spoken  of  the  toAvn  of  Natchez,  which  possesses 
all  the  charming  features  of  a  tropical  city.  Its  streets 
lined  with  the  Pride  of  China  tree,  now  in  full  flower,  its 
verandah-ornamented  residences,  with  their  wide,  airy 
halls  and  piazzas;  the  sweet  gardens  that  fill  -all  the 
atmosphere,  even  in  the  business  streets,  with  the  per- 
fume of  flowers;  the  quiet  repose  and  comfort  of  the 
whole  place ;  the  indolent  luxury  of  the  nothing-to-do  air 
of  the  citizensj^who  like  all  Southerners,  never  bustle 
about  i)  the  half  foreign  air  descended  to  it  from  the  old 
Spaniards,  who  first  dwelt  here,  give  to  Natchez  a  tout 
ensemble,  wholly  difierent  from  a  Northern  town. 

Then  there  are  the  handsome  suburban  villas  embedded 
amid  flower  gardens,  their  white  columns  glancing  here 
and  there,  from  openings  in  the  foliage  of  the  umbrageous 
trees  that  shade  them. 

Many  of  the  more  wealthy  cotton  planters,  whose 
estates  lie  on  the  river  where  it  is  unhealthy  to  reside, 
live  in  the  vicinity  of  Natchez,  in  country  houses,  on 


260  THE  SUNNY  south;  or, 

which  they  lavish  taste  and  expense  without  limit.  There 
is,  therefore,  a  beautiful  wilderness  of  architectural  and 
horticultural  elegance  around  the  city.  The  pleasant 
drives  carry  you  winding  along  among  these  tasteful 
homes  now  rolling  over  a  graveled  lawn-road,  now  tra- 
versing hedges  enclosing  gardens  that  contain  nearly  all 
the  tropical  plants;  now  catching  sight  of  a  summer- 
house,  now  of  statuary,  and  on  all  sides  beauty. 

It  is  in  these  homes,  which  extend  a  league  or  more 
around  the  town,  that  are  to  be  found  the  families  that 
have  given  to  the  society  of  Natchez  so  much  celebrity. 
Here  are  to  be  found  persons  who  have  traveled  abroad, 
and  cultivated  their  tastes  by  European  discipline.  Their 
parlors  are  adorned  with  pictures  from  pencils  of  the  first 
masters.  Their  halls  are  not  deficient  in  fine  statuary. 
Their  private  libraries  are  often  large  and  well  chosen. 
The  furniture,  equipages,  and  style  of  living  are  all  in 
keeping. 

In  Natchez  itself  there  are  but  few  wealthy  persons ; 
but  the  society  is  exceedingly  good,  and  every  stranger, 
who  has  enjoyed  its  hospitality,  will  have  a  grateful  re- 
collection of  their  tasteful  and  pleasant  homes. 

Natchez  is  the  diocesan  residence  of  Bishop  Green, 
the  Bishop  of  Mississippi,  and  also  of  Bishop  Chance,  the 
Roman  Catholic  Prelate.  The  Cathedral  is  a  noble 
building,  in  the  Gothic  style  of  architecture,  and  its  tall 
white  spire  can  be  seen  for  many  miles  around.  Although 
I  am  more  than  two  leagues  distant  from  it,  I  have  it  in 
sight,  visible  over  a  rich  undulating  country,  Avith  here 
and  there  the  chimneys  of  a  villa  rising  above  the  sea  of 
foliage.  The  Episcopal  Church  in  Natchez  is  said  to 
have   the  most   opulent  parish   in    the   South-western 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  261 

country,  which  is  doubtless  the  case.  The  Roman 
Catholics  are  not  numerous  here,  yet  they  have  a  Female 
Boarding-school  or  Nunnery,  under  the  charge  of  Mad'lle 
Marcellus,  a  lady  formerly  from  Baltimore,  and  who,  in 
her  infancy,  with  her  mother,  was  one  of  the  few  who 
escaped  the  massacre  of  St.  Domingo.  This  school  is 
supported  mainly  by  Protestant  pupils,  who  in  almost 
every  instance  leave  the  school  with  a  decided  bias 
towards  the  Roman  Church,  if  not  actually  Romanists. 

The  appearance  of  the  country  from  the  plantation 
where  I  am  now  sojourning  for  a  few  days,  is  very  beau- 
tiful, diversified  as  it  is  to  the  eye  with  woodlands,  broad 
cotton  fields,  and  country  seats  in  the  centre  of  sur- 
rounding estates.  The  magnolia  is  here  the  pride  and 
glory  of  all  trees.  Within  sight  is  a  ridge  that  is  thickly 
forested  with  them,  and  such  a  spectacle  of  green  mag- 
nificence I  have  never  beheld.  When  the  sun  at  a 
certain  angle  glances  upon  the  polished  surface  of  the 
large  leaves,  every  tree  seems  as  if  encased  in  emerald 
armor.  Then  the  grand,  huge  flowers,  that  glitter  here 
and  there  amid  the  masses  of  foliage  like  large  silver 
stars,  fill  all  the  air  around  with  their  fragrance.  Some 
of  these  trees  rise  to  the  height  of  ninety  feet — tall, 
proud  cones  of  beauty  that  seem  to  be  conscious  of  their 
elegance. 

The  Southern  ladies  are  all  natural  gardeners.  The 
taste  with  which  they  lay  out  and  arrange  their  par- 
terres would  delight  and  surprise  a  Northern  eye.  The 
garden  of  this  house  where  we  are  now  visiting,  though 
by  no  means  regarded  as  the  finest  in  this  vicinity,  I 
will  describe,  and  it  will  give  you  some  idea  of  others 


262  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

here.     But  first  let  me  describe  our  drive  hither  from 
town. 

After  we  had  driven  half  an  hour  amid  the  most  luxu- 
riant hedge  rows,  which  extended  miles  further,  we  came 
to  a  white  gateway,  set  in  the  hedge.  It  was  the  en- 
trance to  the  estate.  Passing  through  it,  we  rode  a  | 
quarter  of  a  mile  beneath  the  majestic  branches  of  a  fine 
old  forest,  and  then  emerged  into  an  open  road,  which 
was  bounded  on  both  sides  by  cotton  fields,  in  which 
gangs  of  slaves  in  their  white  and  blue  cotton  dresses 
were  at  work,  under  the  eye  of  a  mounted  overseer. 

The  villa,  or  "great  house,"  was  visible  half  a  mile  off, 
fairly  embowered  in  an  island  of  the  deepest  verdure,  for 
an  island  it  seemed,  surrounded  by  the  ploughed,  brown 
fields  of  the  plantation.  As  we  advanced,  w^e  could  catch 
sight  of  a  column  between  the  trees,  then  of  a  wing,  and 
get  a  glimpse  of  the  portico.  At  length,  after  two  or 
three  times  losino;  sicrht  of  it  as  we  wound  round  the 
undulations  of  the  fields,  we  emerged  full  in  front  of  its 
handsome  arched  gateway.  The  enclosure  was  many 
acres,  entirely  shut  in  by  a  hedge  that  was  spangled  with 
snow  white  flowers.  A  slave  opened  the  gate  for  our 
carriage.  We  drove  through,  and  found  ourselves  within 
a  horticultural  paradise.  The  softest  lawns,  the  loveliest 
groups  of  trees  of  the  richest  leaf,  the  prettiest  walks, 
the  brightest  little  lakes,  with  swans  upon  their  bosoms, 
the  most  romantic  vistas,  met  our  enraptured  gaze. 
Through  this  lovely  place  w^e  drove  over  a  smooth  avenue, 
at  one  time  almost  in  complete  darkness  from  the  over- 
arching limbs  interlaced  above ;  at  another  rolling  in  sun- 
light upon  the  open  sward. 

At  len^ith  we  drew  near  the  mansion,  which  was  an 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  263 

Italian  villa  of  the  purest  style,  elevated  so  as  to  be 
ascended  by  a  broad  flight  of  steps.  There  were  im- 
mense vases,  three  feet  tall,  standing  in  front,  just  where 
the  eye  of  taste  would  have  them,  containing  West 
Indian  plants,  with  gorgeous  leaves,  and  flowering  splen- 
didly, the  names  of  which  I  do  not  know.  The  color  of 
the  edifice  was  a  shade  under  the  lemon  tint,  which  re- 
lieved finely  the  foliage  about  it.  In  the  centre  were 
broad  folding  doors,  which  were  thrown  open,  and  pre- 
sented a  prospect,  through  a  noble  central  hall  with  a 
polished  oak  floor,  of  the  garden  in  the  rear  of  the 
house.  Standing  in  the  door  of  this  hall,  we  could  com- 
mand the  main  avenue  of  the  garden,  which  descended 
in  a  succession  of  terraces  to  a  small  lake  glittering  at 
the  extremity.  This  lake  lay  in  deep  seclusion  beneath 
a  grove  of  overhanging  oaks  and  sycamores,  of  magnolia 
trees,  elms,  and  orange  trees.  The  south  piazza  com- 
manded the  whole  garden,  which  was  a  labyrinth  of 
beauty  and  floral  magnificence.  Upon  descending  into 
the  garden,  one  passed  through  an  avenue  of  tropical 
plants,  many  of  which  I  had  never  seen,  nor  could  have 
believed  they  ever  existed,  their  loveliness  and  grandeur 
were  so  novel  and  extraordinary.  In  some  of  the 
flowers  it  seemed  as  if  "the  Angel  of  flowers"  had  tried 
to  see  how  beautiful  a  thing  it  could  make.  Such  ex- 
quisite forms  and  colors !  Ah  me !  how  beautiful, 
thought  I,  as  I  gazed  on  them,  must  things  in  Heaven 
be,  if  things,  their  shadows  on  earth,  are  so  lovely  I 

Which  way  soever  one  turns  her  steps  in  wandering 
through  this  magical  garden,  new  and  ever  varied  scenes 
open  upon  the  eye.     If  I  should  particularize,  I  would 


264  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OK, 

but  give  you  a  catalogue  and  description  of  the  plants. 
A  bod  of  violets,  sixty  feet  square,  as  blue  and  brilliant 
as  a  paved  floor  of  turquoise,  and  fragrant  as  all  Araby  ; 
bordering  one  side  of  a  walk,  a  bank  of  verbenas,  one 
hundred  feet  in  length  and  seven  feet  broad,  composed 
of  every  shade  of  the  varied  color  of  this  flower,  looked 
like  a  mosaic  aisle,  surpassing  description  for  its  gorgeous 
brilliancy.  There  were  strange  looking  flowers,  the 
leaves  of  which  appeared  as  if  they  had  been  cut  out  of 
crimson  silk  velvet,  while  fringes  of  golden  flowers  seemed 
to  hang  pendant  from  them. 

In  the  winter  months,  the  large  galleries  of  the  house 
are  shut  in  with  glass  casements,  and  the  rarest  flowers 
removed  from  the  garden  thither ;  so  that  one  can  look, 
from  the  parlor  windows  upon  flowers,  or,  opening  them,  i 
promenade  among  them  in  a  pleasant  atmosphere ;  for 
these  winter  conservatories  are  kept  at  an  equal  tempera- 
ture by  furnaces  beneath. 

Many  of  the  tropical  plants  require  in  this  climate 
this  protection  from  the  first  of  December  to  the  first  of 
April ;  though  all  the  winter  the  gardens  look  green  and 
beautiful,  so  numerous  are  the  plants  that  can  remain 
out.  Our  charming  hostess  told  me  she  used  formerly 
to  bring  in  the  Agave  Americana  every  winter,  not 
thinking  it  would  live  otherwise,  till  at  length  some  of 
them  grew  too  large  and  heavy  to  be  removed,  even  by 
four  men ;  and  she  sorrowfully  let  them  remain,  supposing 
the  winter  would  kill  them,  when,  lo,  to  her  surprise, 
they  were  not  touched ;  and  many  of  the  cacti  that  are  - 
usually  sheltered,  will  endure  the  winter  abroad.  I  was 
shown  by  her   a   night-blooming   cereus,  preserved  in 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  265 

V  alcohol,  wliicli  she  cut  off  in  the  height  of  its  bloom. 
This  is  probably  one  of  the  most  delicate  and  beautiful 
flowers  created  by  the  hand  of  Him  who  made  this  world 
of  beauty.  It  is  the  custom  here,  when  a  lady  has  one 
of  these  plants  on  the  eve  of  blooming,  to  send  a  servant 
to  all  her  friends  on  the  surrounding  estates,  inviting 
them  to  the  spectacle.  The  gathering  at  such  times  is 
a  pleasant  one.  Carriages  roll,  and  saddle  horses  come 
galloping  up  the  avenue,  bearing  youths  and  maidens, 
and  gray  heads,  and  children;  and  a  merry  frolic  it  is, 
with  a  fine  supper  at  the  close,  and  an  exciting  gallopade 
back  a  cheval  by  moonlight,  or  star-beams. 

There  is  here  a  touching  custom  of  having  burying 
grounds  on  the  estates.  Nearly  all  plantations  have  a 
private  cemetery.  These  places  of  buried  affection, 
where  hope  and  faith  wait  the  resurrection,  are  often 
gems  of  funereal  beauty.  Some  secluded  but  sweet 
spot,  not  too  remote  from  the  mansion,  is  selected.  It 
is  enclosed  by  a  snow-white  paling,  or  a  massive  wall  of 
brick ;  ivy  is  taught  to  grow  over  it ;  elms,  willows,  and 
cypresses  are  planted  within  the  inclosure.  White  mar- 
ble tombs  glisten  among  the  foliage.  Perhaps  over  all, 
towers  a  group  of  ancient  oaks,  subduing  the  light  be- 
neath, and  lending  to  the  hallowed  spot  a  mournful 
shade,  a  soft  twilight  even  in  the  sultry  noontide's 
glare. 

;,  .  Such  is  the  family  burial-place  on  this  estate.  Not 
far  from  it,  in  a  place  scarcely  less  picturesque,  is  the 
cemetery  for  the  slaves,  enclosed  by  a  neat  white-washed 
wall.  The  affection  of  the  poor  Africans  has  planted  the 
rose  and  the  lily,  the  violet  and  verbena,  upon  many 


266  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OH, 

of  the  graves.  I  was  struck  with  the  inscription  upon 
a  slah  at  the  head  of  one  of  the  green  mounds  of 
earth : 

"to  the  memory  I 

OF  I 

GOOD     OLD     PETEB,  I 

A    FAITHFUL     SERVANT, 

AGED   97   YEAKS,  j 

"  Well  done  good  and  fiuthful  servant,  enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord."         1 

ERECTED  BY  HIS  MASTER.  * 

I  learned  that  he  had  been  in  the  family  three  genera- 
tions, and  that  for  the  last  thirty  years  of  his  life  he  had 
been  exempt  from  all  duties,  except  such  as  he  chose 
voluntarily  to  perform.  He  had  served  faithfully  the 
father  and  grandfather  of  our  present  host,  who  had 
raised  this  tribute  to  his  memory. 

"A  faithful  servant,"  mused  I,  as  I  fixed  my  gaze  on 
those  three  words.  Who  can  ask  for  greater  commenda- 
tion? In  his  narrow  and  humble  sphere  he  served  faith- 
fully, and  has  entered  into  his  rest.  Oh!  that  I,  also, 
may  have  it  inscribed  upon  my  tomb,  that  I  have  been 
"a  faithful  servant"  in  my  sphere  wherein  my  Maker 
has  placed  me.  It  is  praise  enough  for  a  king;  for, 
monarch  or  slave,  we  are  all  servants  to  "one  Master, 
who  is  in  heaven."  I  left  the  grave  of  "good  old 
Peter  '  with  a  healthy  lesson  impressed  upon  my  heart. 
Yours, 

Katharine  Conyngham. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  267 


LETTER   XXXII. 


Bear  Mr.  : 

This  will  be  the  last  letter  I  shall  address  you  from 
this  state,  as  to-morrow  we  re-embark  at  Natehez  on  our 
voyage  to  New  Orleans.  In  this  letter  I  shall  touch  upon 
an  interesting  subject,  suggested  by  a  visit  which  we  all 
made  yesterday  to  a  neighboring  estate  to  dine.  It  was 
at  the  residence  of  one  of  the  old  families,  whose  Ameri- 
can origin  dates  back  to  the  Spanish  times.  Everything 
was  in  the  most  unexceptionable  style.  But  there  was 
one  thing  which  I  did  not  like,  and  will  tell  you  frankly 
what  it  was.  I  knew  that  in  the  family  was  a  young  lady  of 
great  mental  accomplishments  and  personal  beauty,  from 
the  North,  who  was  a  governess,  or,  as  it  is  termed  here, 
"teacher"  in  the* family,  and  having  known  her  in  New 
England,  I  was  anticipating  no  little  pleasure  in  meeting 
her  on  this  occasion.  Not  seeing  her  at  dinner,  upon 
inquiring  of  the  lady  of  the  mansion  for  her,  she  an- 
swered me  that  "  she  was  in  her  study-room,  and  that 
she  never  came  to  the  table  when  guests  were  present. 
She  at  such  times  takes  her  meals  in  her  room." 

Here  then  I  found  an  educated  girl  of  twenty,  whose 
grandfather  has  left  a  glorious  name  on  the  page  of 
American  history,  whose  father  has  been  a  member  of 
Congress,  treated  as  an  inferior,  placed  on  a  level  with 


268  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

a  housekeeper,  because  left  a  destitute  orphan,  she  chose 
rather  to  teach  than  be  dependent  on  relatives. 

"I  will  send  a  servant  for  her  if  you  wish  to  see  her," 
added  the  lady  coldly. 

"No,"  I  said,  "I  will  see  her  in  her  room."  .  .<,, 

I  was  escorted  by  a  servant  across  a  noble  hall  hung 
with  fine  pictures,  and  supported  by  corinthian  columns, 
to  a  wing  of  the  villa.  He  knocked  at  a  polished  walnut 
door.  It  was  opened  by  my  lovely  friend,  who,  on  re- 
cognizing me,  almost  shrieked  with  joy,  and  clasped  me 
to  her  heart.  The  door  was  closed,  and  we  were  soon 
engaged  in  conversation.  Upon  my  expressing  my  re- 
gret at  the  false  position  which  she  held  there,  she  smiled, 
(sadly,  I  thought,)  and  replied — 

"It  is  not  altogether  disagreeable,  as  I  do  not  wish  to 
mingle  in  society  where  the  ladies,  however  polite,  would 
regard  me  as  not  their  full  equal ;  so  I  prefer  dining  in 
my  room :  though  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  am  never  in- 
vited at  the  dinner  parties ;  nor  when  invitations  are  sent 
for  the  family  am  I  included;  and  if  I  go,  it  is  expected 
I  shall  keep  an  eye  on  my  two  sweet  little  pupils. 
^Teaching  here  is  by  some  families  looked  upon  as  be- 
neath 'position,'  as  the  phrase  is.  But  I  am  content 
to  endure  all,  this  neglect  for  the  emoluments,  which  are 
seven  hundred  dollars  per  annum,  which  enable  me  to 
send  four  hundred  dollars  yearly  to  my  mother,  who  has 
need  of  all  the  aid  I  can  render  her.  With  the  balance, 
save  what  I  absolutely  require  for  my  own  use,  I  am 
paying  a  debt  left  by  my  father.  For  these  advantages 
I  am  content  to  hold  an  apparently  inferior  position.  I 
have  no  pride,  dear  Kate.  Reverses  have  made  me 
humble."  ["^uch  is  the  true  position,  Mr. ,  of  the 


THE   SOUTHERNER  AT   HOME.  269 

governess  in  the  more  fashionable  Southern  families. 
But  in  some  she  is  regarded  as  an  equal.  Usually  she  J 
holds  a  place  midway  between  the  lady  of  the  mansion, 
and  the  overseer's  wife.  Too  far  above  one  to  be  her 
companion,  and  too  much  beneath  the  other,  she  has  an 
isolated  position,  under  which  the  spirits  of  the  most 
cheerful  girl  will  by  and  by  give  way.  Even  her  pupils 
feel  themselves  her  superiors.  She  can  never  marry  here  ;*?^ 
for  the  gentleman  would  not  address  "a  teacher,"  and 
with  her  education  and  refinement  she  can  marry  no  one 
beneath  a  gentleman.  This  line  of  distinction  between^ 
the  governess  and  the  mother  of  the  young  children  she 
teaches  is  more  strongly  defined  in  the  older  and  more 
aristocratic  families.  Indeed  it  is  in  some  of  them  quite 
as  distinct  as  in  the  families  of  the  nobility  in  England, 
where,  all  readers  of  romance  have  learned,  the  gov- 
erness never  associates  on  terms  of  equality  with  the 
family.  But  there  are  many  families  of  planters  who 
do  not  live  in  so  much  style  and  exclusiveness,  where  a 
teacher  would  feel  at  home,  and  be  treated  with  afiection 
and  respect;  but  she  is  the  "teacher"  still,  in  the  eyes 
of  the  neighborhood.  A  plain  planter's  family  is  the 
best  to  teach  in,  let  me  say  to  such  aspirants  for  places 
as  governesses  as  may  read  this  letter.  To  be  sure  the 
eclat  of  being  in  a  very  rich,  stylish  family,  in  a  large, 
superbly-furnished  mansion,  is  a  temptation  that  en- 
snares the  inexperienced ;  but  let  me  tell  such  that,  the 
higher  the  fashion  of  the  family,  tha  lower  will  be  the 
station  of  the  governess,  and  the  more  she  will  be  made 
to^Jeel  her  position.  Much,  however,  depends  on  the 
i  young~Tady  herself.     True  refinement  will  always  find 


J 


270  THE  SUNNY  south;  or, 

respect;  while  vulgarity  or  brusqueness  of  manner  will 
meet  its  level. 

There  are,  however,  in  all  pursuits  and  avocations 
"disagreeables."  No  condition  of  industry  is  free  from 
them ;  and  this  is  one  of  the  privations  and  disagreeables 
those  young  ladies  who  seek  situations  in  Southern 
families  must  take  with  the  situation.  Teaching  here  is 
looked  upon  as  a  trade,  both  in  males  and  females.  For 
a  Southern  lady  to  teach  as  a  governess,  she  loses  caste 
with  many,  though  not,  of  course,  with  the  sensible  and 
right  minded.  I  know  a  lady  with  two  grown  daughters 
who  has  a  school  not  far  from  Yicksburg,  who  will  not 
let  her  daughters  assist  her  in  teaching,  lest  it  should  be 
an  obstacle  in  the  way  of  their  marrying  en  regie.  This 
woman  understands  the  character  of  the  people.  Now 
in  New  England,  teaching  is  regarded  directly  the  re- 

I  verse.  Our  teachers  there  are  a  part  of  the  "  respect- 
ability" of  society.  Our  professors  are  aristocrats. 
Some  of  our  first  ladies  have  been  teachers  when  girls. 
In  a  word,  a  New  England  mind  can  scarcely  compre- 
hend how  teaching  youth  can  be  looked  upon  as  a  lower- 
ing vocation. 

The  gentlemen  who  teach  in  the  South  as  private 
tutors,  are  placed  exactly  in  the    same  position  as  the 

/governesses.  I  am  told  that  a  gentleman,  who  has  since 
left  a  brilliant  name  for  genius  behind  him,  was  tutor  for 
two  years  in  a  distinguished  private  family  near  New 
Orleans,  and  in  all  that  time  was  never  an  invited  guest 
at  any  dinner  party  in  the  house.  When  the  planter 
has  furnished  him  a  room,  a  horse,  and  his  meals,  and 
paid  him  his  salary,  all  obligations  are  considered  dis- 
charged towards  the  "teacher."     Professors  in  colleges 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  271 

in  the  South  are  often  called  "teachers,"  and  the  wife 
of  a  president  is  but  the  "teacher's  wife."  vjn  a  word,-* 
no  body  is  really  aristocratic  but  the  wealthy  cotton- 
planter) 

The  number  of  private  tutors  of  both  sexes  throughout 
the  South  is  very  great.  The  distance  at  which  planters 
dwell  from  towns  renders  it  incumbent  on  them  to  employ 
teachers  at  home.  The  situation  is  pleasant  or  unplea- 
sant according  to  the  family  and  the  disposition  of  the 
tutor.  If  he  or  she,  for  the  sake  of  laying  up  something, 
is  willing  to  endure  privation,  and  even  "  to  lose  position," 
for  a  year  or  two,  why  these  trifles  can  be  borne.  The 
usual  salary  for  a  young  lady  is  four  hundred  and  fifty  to 
five  and  six  hundred  dollars  with  board.  Some  receive 
more,  especially  as  in  the  case  of  my  fair  friend,  if  music 
and  French  be  included.  Latin  is  sometimes  required, 
but  not  often.  In  general,  the  planters  keep  their  daugh- 
ters under  governesses  till  they  are  fourteen,  and  then 
send  them  to  some  celebrated  school.  North  or  South, 
to  remain  a  year  or  two  to  graduate.  The  sons,  also, 
at  eighteen,  and  often  earlier,  are  dispatched  to  Northern 
colleges.  Few  daughters  "finish  oflF"  at  home.  Since 
the  recent  agitation  upon  the  slavery  question,  the  Mis- 
sissippians  are  disposed  to  be  shy  of  Northern  teachers, 
and  fewer  will  be  employed. 

In  one  county  here,  at  a  public  meeting,  resolutions 
were  passed  that  no  teacher  should  be  employed  who  was 
not  born  South,  or  was  not  a  Northern  man  with  South- 
ern principles.  The  good  people  of  New  England  have 
contributed  to  close  an  avenue  to  preferment,  South,  for 
their  educated  sons  and  daughters,  by  their  injudicious 


272  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

interposition  between  Southerners  and  their  institution.* 
It  will  be  difficult,  indeed,  to  find  Southern  born  young 
ladies  and  gentlemen  who  will  teach,  and  thus  prevent 
the  necessity  of  depending  on  the  North ;  but  there  will 
be,  for  a  long  time,  a  reluctance  to  employ  New  England 
teachers  ;  and  thousands,  who  would  have  found  employ- 
ment on  the  ten  thousand  Southern  plantations,  will  be" 
excluded.  It  will  be  one  benefit  to  the  South.  Its  youth' 
will  prepare  themselves  to  be  teachers,  and  this  despised  Ij 
vocation  will  become  honorable.  '  1] 

In  my  own  case,  I  have  not  felt  the  sense  of  inferior-  ' 
ity  attached  to  a  governess.  The  family  in  which  I  have 
so  long  dwelt  at  Overton  Park  have  too  much  refine-  i 
ment,  education,  and  good  sense  to  think  any  less  of  me 
for  being  a  teacher.  Indeed,  I  am  as  agreeably  situated 
as  if  I  were  ail  honored  relative,  and  feel  like  a  daughter 
rather  than  a  governess.  If  the  situation  of  all  who 
teach  in  families  was  like  mine,  teaching  would  be  the 
most  delightful  occupation  one  could  choose. 

Great  attention  is  paid  here  to  the  manly  education 
of  boys.  They  are  taught  to  ride  fearlessly  and  sit  a 
horse  well.  The  two  sons  of  the  gentleman,  eleven  and 
thirteen  years  old,  where  we  are  now  visiting,  ride  up  to 
Natchez  three  times  a  week,  to  take  fencing  lessons,  box- 
ing lessons,  and  lessons  in  dancing.  They  are  also  taught 
pistol  and  rifle  shooting.  The  eldest  son,  who  has  just 
turned  his  nineteenth  year,  has  displayed  to  me  for  my 
amusement,  some  surprising  exhibitions  of  his  skill.  With 
a  pistol,  I  saw  him  shoot  three  humble-bees  on  the  wing, 
at  six  paces  distant.  He  will  do  this  all  day  without 
scarcely  missing  a  shot.  With  a  double-barreled  shot-gun, 
*  Written  in  1853. 


THE    SOUTHERNER    AT   HOME.  273 

i  have  seen  him  repeatedly,  to-day^  hit  two  oranges 
■which  he  threw  into  the  air  together,  firing  right  and 
left,  and  putting  balls  through  both  before  they  touched 
the  ground.  He  has  an  old  gun  which  he  calls  "  Sharp's 
rifle,"  with  which  I  saw  him  shoot  and  bring  to  the  ground, 
a  vulture  that  was  flying  so  high,  it  seemed  no  bigger 
than  a  sparrow.  I  was  admiring  the  plumage  of  a  beau- 
tiful red  bird  which  was  perched  on  the  top  of  an  oak, 
"when  he  sent  in  for  his  rifle,  and  before  I  could  prevent 
him  he  had  taken  its  head  ofi"  with  a  rifle  ball  and  brought 
it  to  me  saying,  quietly,  "  There  it  is — you  see  it  is  a  car- 
dinal." If  he  goes  out  shooting,  he  disdains  to  kill  birds 
at  rest ;  but  first  starts  them  up  and  assuredly  brings 
them  down  on  the  wing.  This  evening,  he  threw  up  two 
quarter-of-a-dollar  pieces,  and  hit  them  both  in  the  air  with 
a  double-barreled  pistol.  Yet  this  thorough-bred  marks- 
man is  an  intellectual,  pale,  oval-faced  young  man,  with 
long,  flowing  hair,  a  slight  moustache,  and  the  elegant,  in- 
dolent manners  of  a  Chestnut  street  lounger.  His  eye  is 
quiet,  and  his  demeanor  gentle,  and  one  would  hardly  sup- 
pose, to  look  at  his  almost  effeminate  form,  that  it  would  be 
certain  death  to  stand  before  him  in  a  hostile  rencontre. 
It  is  this  training  which  won  for  the  immortal  Mississippi 
Rifles,  in  Mexico,  their  great  celebrity  ;  when  a  corps  of 
three  hundred  of  them  checked  the  advance  of  six  thou- 
sand Mexican  cavalry,  and  turned  the  tide  of  battlfij 

I  have  just  seen  an  Indian  chief.  He  came  to  the 
house,  bringing  five  wild  turkeys  which  he  had  shot.  He 
is  a  Choctaw,  and  yet  bears  in  his  independent  carriage 
some  traces  of  his  former  free  and  wild  life.  He  was 
grave  in  aspect,  and  said  but  little.  His  rifle  was  tied 
upon  the  stock  with  thongs  of  deer's  hide;  and  had 
18 


274  THE  SUNNY  south;  or, 

a  rusty  flint  lock.     He  had  a  powder-horn  and  shot-bag 
of  deerskin  slung  at  his  side ;  wore  fringed  leggings,  moc-  | 
casins,  and  a  blue  hunting  shirt.     His  black,  coarse  hair  ) 
was  bound  by  an  old  red  sash.     He  seemed  to  listen  with  ■ 
deep  attention  to  the  piano,  but  no  change  of  countenance 
betrayed  emotion.     He  was  much  taken  with  my  young  i 
friend's  "Sharp's  rifle,"  which  he  examined  with  great 
care ;  and  then  made  him  a  sign  to  shoot  with  it.     Two 
hundred  and  fifty  yards  distant,  a  crow  was   perched 
upon  a  dead  limb.     The  young  man  leveled  his  gun  : 
the  Indian  watched  the  result  eagerly,  yet  with  a  slight 
smile  of  incredulity.     The  crow  fell  to  the  earth  simul- 
taneously with  the  report.     The  Indian  clapped  the  rifle 
on  the  barrel  with  a  grunt  of  praise,  and,  taking  the 
marksman's  hand,  pressed  it  in  token  of  fellowship  in 
hunter's  skill.     He  fairly  fell  in  love  with  the  rifle,  and 
finally  putting  it  down,  walked  away  sadly  towards  the 
forest  where  he  had  his  camp. 

I  was  then  told  by  our  host  a  very  striking  and  touch- 
ing incident  associated  with  him.  A  chapel  was  about 
to  be  erected  on  a  neighboring  estate.  The  walls  were 
commenced,  but  the  work  of  the  first  day  was  pulled 
down  in  the  night  by  an  unknown  hand.  They  were 
recommenced,  and  the  same  thing  occurred  thrice.  This 
chief  confessed  that  it  was  his  act. 

"  You  have  covered  with  your  prayer-house  the  grave 
of  my  wife !"  was  the  abrupt  and  touching  reason  he 
gave.  He  was  threatened  if  he  interfered  again.  But 
a  fourth  time  the  walls  were  destroyed,  and,  at  length, 
the  sensibilities  of  the  Indian  were  respected,  and  the 
church  erected  a  few  feet  farther  south,  when  the  devoted 
husband  gave  no  further  molestations.     What  a  subject 


THE   SOUTHEKXER   AT   HOME.  275 

for  a  poem  from  the  pen  of  Amelia,  or  some  of  our  female 
poetesses,  or  Prentice,  or  Park  Benjamin ! 

Mj  next  letter  will  be  written  en  voyage  on  our  way  to 
New  Orleans,  where  we  hope  to  be  by  the  day  after  to- 
morrow.    Till  then,  adieu. 

Yours  respectfully, 

Kate. 


27G  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 


LETTER    XXXIII.  , 

Dear  Mr. :  -^ 

It  is  with  a  certain  misgiving  and  want  of  cardinal  , 
faith  in  mail-bags,  that  I  sit  down  to  mj  purple,  velvet-  li 
topped  writing-desk  and  take  up  my  jeweled  gold  pen 
(a  New  Year's  gift  from  the  colonel)  to  commence  bur-  ^ 
nishing  up  a  "Needle"  for  you.       One  paper  of  six  | 
shining  needles,  sharp  as  thorns — I  mean  the  thorns 
that  guard  rose-buds — I  sent  to  you  last  May,  nicely 
sealed,  and  addressed  to  you  in  a  plain,  fair  hand,  that  ,, 
could  not  be  mistaken  for  any  thing  else.  | 

I  placed  the  package  carefully  in  the  hands  of  the 
village  post-master  of  the  rural  town  near  which  I  was 
then  visiting,  in  Mississippi.  I  was  on  horseback,  and 
riding  up  to  the  door  with  the  parcel  in  my  hand,  I 
placed  it  in  his  possession,  saying,  "Parson,"  (for  he  is 
an  ex-Methodist  preacher,  with  gray  locks,  and  a  vene- 
rable, General  Jackson-like  aspect,  with  his  wiry  hair 
brushed  hard  back  from  his  knotty  forehead,)  "  my  dear, 
good  parson,"  said  I,  in  my  most  entreating  tones,  "I 
entrust  to  you  this  little  package,  to  go  by  mail  to  Phi- 
ladelphia. I  wish  you  would  see  that  it  is  certainly 
mailed." 

"  Yes,  Miss,  it  shall  go  to-night.  Is  there  any  money 
in  it?"  he  asked,  looking  at  its  four  corners,  peering  at 
the  seal,  and  balancing  it  on  his  two  fingers,  as  if  to  test 
its  avoirdupois. 


THE   SOUTHEKNER   AT   HOME.  277 

"  They  are  needles,"  I  said,  smiling,  "  and  they  mustn't 
get  wet." 

"  Needles  !  Miss,  then  ;  I'm  'fraid  its  hardly  mailable 
matter,"  and  he  held  the  parcel  more  lightly  in  his  grasp, 
as  if  he  were  apprehensive  of  pricking  his  fingers,  should 
any  of  the  sharp  points  penetrate  the  paper. 

"  Weigh  it,  sir,  and  charge  postage  accordingly :  it 
will  be  paid  in  Philadelphia,"  I  answered;  and  receiving 
a  renewed  promise  from  the  snowy-headed  old  postmas- 
ter, who  is  known  by  no  other  title  or  name  than  "  Par- 
son," in  all  the  town,  I  rode  away  at  full  canter,  to  rejoin 
Isabel  and  the  handsome  young  planter,  Edward,  who 
were  slowly  walking  their  horses  along  the  green  path 
that  wound  by  the  brook  which  flowed  past  the  village. 

This  package  you  received  in  due  time,  just  as  you 

were  on  the  eve  of  departure  for  Europe,  Mr. ,  as 

I  learn  from  a  letter,  and  after  your  departure  it  appears 
to  have  vanished.  Doubtless,  in  their  humility,  they 
modestly  withdrew  themselves  into  some  obscure  corner 
of  your  domicilium,  to  give  way  to  the  glittering  silver 
needles  with  which  you  Avere  about  to  favor  your  readers 
from  the  lands  of  the  rising  sun  over  the  blue  water. 
This  is  the  true  secret  of  their  invisibility,  and  I  have 
no  doubt,  that  by  a  diligent  search  beneath  the  bundles 
and  packages  of  old  MSS.,  which  fills  the  corners  and 
crevices  of  your  editorial  room,  the  missing,  modest, 
retiring,  eclipsed  needles  will  be  brought  to  light. 

But,  I  fear,  so  long  a  burial  in  obscurity  will  have 
rusted  them  and  rendered  them  unfit  for  use ;  so,  whe- 
ther found  or  lost,  they  are  to  be  regarded  among  the 
things  "that  were." 

Not  seeing  any  of  them  make  their  appearance  in  your 


278  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

columns,  wliicli  slione  steadily  with  the  lustre  of  your 
own  lively  epistles,  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  they 
had  been  disgraced — had  been  quietly  sent  to  that  bourne 
of  all  rejected  communications — "the  tomb  of  the  Ca- 
pulets." 

"Requiescat  in  pace,"  I  sighed,  as  I  thought  of  the 
parcel,  and  submissively  bowed  to  your  better  judgment. 
I  heard  of  its  loss  in  this  way.  A  letter  from  your  edi- 
tor pro-tem,  asking  me  for  more  letters,  came  acquaint- 
ing me  with  the  fact  of  the  "mysterious  disappearance" 
of  the  six  I  had  sent.  Upon  reading  this,  I  remained  a 
moment  quite  stupefied.  If  a  poor  hen  had  seen  a 
wicked  hawk  at  one  swoop  dart  into  the  height  of  the 
clouds  with  six  of  her  little,  golden-colored  chickens  in 
his  talons,  and  disappear  with  them  forever  from  sight, 
she  could  not  have  been  more  confounded  than  I  was  at 
this  intelligence  of  the  disappearance  of  my  six  epistles. 
At  length  a  heavy  sigh  relieved  my  heart ;  and  half  a 
dozen  tears  (one  for  each  needle)  fell  pattering  upon  the 
letter  I  was  reading.  I  could  not  help  weeping,  I  was 
vexed,  and  angry,  and  grievously  sorry.  I  thought  of 
all  the  thoughts  which  I  had  drawn  from  my  heart,  or 
kindled  at  my  brain,  interwoven  in  their  lines !  It  was 
as  if  they,  like  Noah's  dove,  had  gone  forth  from  the 
ark  of  my  mind,  seeking  rest  in  other  hearts  and  minds, 
(those  of  your  dear  readers,  my  many  friends,  for  whom 
I  wrote  them  all  in  sweet,  though  unseen,  communion 
with  them,)  and  were  driven  back,  rufiled,  wing-wounded, 
to  rest  in  my  own  soul  again — the  ark  from  which  they 
80  hopefully  went  forth ! 

None  but  an  author  can  sympathize  with  me.  None 
but  the  author  who  writes — coining  his  heart  as  he  writes 


THE   SOUTHERXER   AT   HOME.  279 

— who  writes  with  all  his  intellectuality  active — and  with 
large  love  for  all  those  unknown  ones,  the  good,  and  wise, 
and  beautiful,  for  whom  he  writes — and  whom,  as  his 
pen  flows  over  the  spotless  page,  he  sees  a  noble  and  ap- 
preciating audience  assembled  before  him — none  but  an 
author  who  writes  thus  can  feel  all  I  felt.  To  such 
among  your  readers,  those  dear  friends,  whom  having 
not  seen  I  love,  I  look  for  that  sympathy  which  can  only 
atone  for  the  loss  of  so  much  of  myself  which  I  had 
poured  out  from  the  full  fountain  of  my  being  into  theirs 
— at  least,  which  I  believed  I  was  pouring  into  theirs, 
but  which  has  only  been  poured  out  upon  the  earth  and 
air. 

It  is  true,  the  lost  MS.  was  but  sixty  pages  of  letter 
paper;  but  it  is  not  the  abundance,  but  that  it  is  ourself, 
a  part  of  ourself  that  is  gone,  that  makes  the  loss.  One 
would  grieve  for  a  finger  amputated,  as  well  as  for  an 
*  arm.  Until  now,  I  knew  not  the  maternal  love  which 
an  authoress  cherishes  for  her  literary  offspring.  Per- 
haps, if  I  am  to  be  an  author,  it  was  best  I  should  pass 
through  all  an  author's  phases,  and  experience  all  an 
author's  experiences.  I  therefore  made  up  my  mind 
patiently  to  endure  the  loss;  but  I  felt  like  a  blind 
orator,  who  has  been  eloquently  and  touchingly  address- 
ing for  an  hour  a  large  audience  supposed  to  be  before 
him,  when  he  is  afterwards  told  that  he  had  been  cruelly 
deceived,  and  had  been  pouring  out  his  heart,  soul,  and 
spirit  to  empty  seats — to  an  unpeopled  void ! 

The  end  of  a  writer  is  the  mind  of  the  reader;  and 
while  writing,  in  imagination  beholding  his  readers, 
reading  his  thoughts  and  lines  of  fire  and  love,  he  has 
his  reward,  though  he  never  sees  to  his  dying  day  one 


280  THE  SUNNY  south:  or, 

of  them.  But  Avhen  he  is  told  that  his  thoughts  reached 
no  living  mind,  that  they  were  addressed  to  a  peopleless 
void — by  the  destruction  of  his  MS.,  before  it  reaches 
the  press, — he  feels  an  aching  void — a  tumultuous  back- 
ward ebb  into  his  soul  of  all  that  had  gone  forth,  coming 
like  an  overwhelming  torrent,  at  first  to  prostrate  with 
despair;  but  not  finally  destroy  his  energies.  If  he  pos- 
sesses true  genius,  he  will  rally,  and  he  will  try  once 
more;  but  he  can  never  again  put  forth  the  same 
thoughts.  Their  freshness  is  gone,  their  force  lamed, 
their  beauty  impaired  by  repetition.  He  will  seek  a 
new  field,  and  what  is  lost,  is  lost  irrevocably.  Such  is 
the  nature   of  that  sort  of  genius  of  which  authors  are 

made,  Mr.  ,  and  such  is  authorship  in  one  of  its 

phases. 

Well,  I  went  to  work  again,  but  I  did  not,  oh,  I  could 
not  write  over  the  same  letters,  and  so  I  let  them  go, 
and  resumed  where  the  last  of  the  missing  ones  had 
ended.  The  six  lost,  described  our  voyage  down  the 
Cumberland  from  Nashville;  adventures  on  the  Ohio; 
scenes  and  incidents  upon  the  Mississippi;  life  on  the 
river ;  habits  of  the  boatmen ;  wooding  by  torchlight ;  a 
tornado;  a  collision;  a  shipwrecked  steamer;  an  earth- 
quake; the  city  of  Memphis;  its  population,  habits,  and 
manners;  the  city  of  Vicksburg;  the  city  of  Natchez, 
and  many  things  too  numerous  to  mention.  Dear  me! 
what  a  loss !  And  this  is  not  all.  Another  package  of 
a  new  series  is  gone. 

The  seventh  letter  of  the  new  series  was  dated  at  a 
plantation  near  Natchez,  where  I  was  sojourning  a  few 
weeks.  It,  and  five  more,  described  society  in  the  coun- 
try, in  the  town;  deer  hunting,  fox  hunting;  a  visit  to 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  281 

an  Indian  village  and  temple ;  a  love  scene ;  a  confession ; 
a  wounded  cavalier;  a  journey  to  the  prairie;  an  Indian 
maid,  and  an  adventure  replete  with  romance.  The 
twelfth  letter  closed  as  we  were  in  the  prairies  encamped, 
and  written  while  the  gentlemen  of  our  party  were  dress- 
ing a  deer  for  dinner.  These  letters  were  put  into  thb 
mail  in  two  parcels  at  the  next  post-office. 

The  postmaster  was  a  young  man  with  a  savage  mus- 
tache, a  black,  stiletto-like  eye,  and  he  kept  his  office  in 
a  log-cabin  that  was  half-grocery.  He  was  terrifically 
polite,  and  as  he  extended  his  hand  to  take  the  parcels, 
he  betrayed  the  butt  of  a  bowie-knife  in  his  gaping  vest. 
He  said  the  stage  would  pass  in  a  few  minutes,  and  in- 
deed, I  saw  it  come  up,  a  sort  of  dry-goods  box  on  two 
wheels,  driven  by  a  yellow-faced  youth  of  seventeen,  his 
forehead  and  eyes  buried  in  a  monstrous  buffalo-cap,  as 
large  as  a  huzzar's,  while  his  feet  were  bare,  and  over 
his  shoulders  he  wore  a  green  blanket  with  a  hole  in  the 
centre,  through  which  he  had  thrust  his  head.  In  this 
box  was  a  leathern  mail-bag,  into  which  I  did  see  my 
parcel  safely  deposited  and  locked  up,  the  postmaster 
with  the  mustache  returning  the  key  to  his  own  pocket. 
They  Avere  the  only  letters  that  went  that  day ;  and  now 

after  four  months  you  have  received  neither,  Mr. . 

It  is  a  shame,  and  enough  to  try  the  patience  of  any 
body  to  be  so  peculiarly  unfortunate.  I  suppose  they 
have  added  ere  this  fuel  to  the  flames  of  the  hecatomb 
of  wandering  epistles  that  monthly  blazes  in  the  court- 
yard of  the  General  Post-office,  at  Washington.  It  is 
said  they  save  only  letters  with  money  I  Ah,  young 
gentlemen,  or  you  good  gentlemen  with  gray  hair,  who 
superintend  this  dreadful  fire  which  destroys  so  much 


282  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

that  sprung  from  immortal  minds  and  loving  hearts,  if 
you  had  known  the  value  of  my  two  parcels,  which, 
doubtless,  passed  through  your  hands,  you  would  have 
had  mercy  upon  them ;  I  feel  that  you  would  have  spared 

them  from  the  flames,  and  sent  them  safely  to  Mr. ; 

and  if  this  should  be  so  unfortunate  as  to  fall  into  your 
power,  0  grand  Inquisitor  of  the  Dread  Inquisition  of 
Letters,  called  dead,  yet  being  filled  with  thoughts,  can 
never  die — spare,  oh  spare  this,  my  poor  epistle,*  and 
all  others  that  come  after  it,  and  send  it  on  its  way  re- 
joicing, and,  as  in  duty  bound,  I  ever  will  pray  for  your 
happiness,  health,  and  peace  forevermore. 

Your  humble  petitioner, 

Kate  Conyngham. 

*  By  a  late  law,  the  words  "  To  be  preserved,"  written  around 
the  seal,  insures  the  preservation  of  the  letter  at  the  Dead  Let- 
ter office. 

The  letters     '     '     '  will  secure  the  return  to  the  writer  of 

all  MSS.,  which  are  equal  to  money  to  author  and  publisher. 

Editoe. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  283 


LETTER    XXXIV. 

Chateau  de  Clery,  La. 


My  Dear  Mr. : 

My  last  letter,  dated  from  this  beautiful  villa,  a 
sugar  estate,  eleven  miles  above  the  city  of  New  Orleans, 
detailed  to  you  my  grief  at  the  loss  of  the  round  dozen 
"Needles,"  and  my  reluctance  to  rewrite;  indeed,  my 
inability  to  write  them  a  second  time.  I,  therefore,  must 
briefly  state  in  this  that  the  space  covered  by  the  twelve 
letters  was  three  months,  and  that  the  twelfth  found  me 
on  the  prairies  near  the  capital  of  Mississippi,  traveling 
in  a  sort  of  caravan-fashion  with  the  colonel  and  a  large 
party,  going  to  look  at  some  Indian  lands  which  they 
had  purchased.  We  soon  returned  to  the  hospital  man- 
sion near  Natchez,  where  we  had  been  a  few  weeks  so- 
journing, and  the  following  week  embarked  for  New 
Orleans.  From  this  embarkation  I  resume  my  letters, 
aided  by  copious  notes  which  I  took  while  descending  the 
river.  The  city  of  Natchez  has  a  romantic  site,  being 
situated,  like  Quebec,*  upon  an  elevated  table,  which  on 
the  verge  of  the  river  forms  a  perpendicular  bluff  of 
nearly  two  hundred  feet.  Along  the  edge  of  this  preci- 
pice is  a  green  mall,  or  promenade,  with  seats  sociably 
placed  underneath  the  trees,  upon  which  idlers  can  sit 
enjoying  the  fresh  breeze  from  the  river,  watching  the 
ascending  and  descending  steamers  that  pass  a  score 


2S4  THE  SUNNY  south;  or, 

a-day,  or  looking  at  the  horsemen  cantering  through  the 
level  streets  of  the  opposite  village  of  Concordia.  On 
our  way  to  the  landing  we  stopped  a  few  moments  to 
admire  the  wide  view.  It  was  grand  and  ocean-like,  so 
plane  and  illimitable  is  the  level  sea  of  foliage  that 
recedes  westward  to  the  even  horizon.  Four  miles  above 
the  city  the  mighty  Father  of  Waters  emerges  from  this 
great  valley  of  vast  forests,  and  expands  before  us  like 
a  lake,  and  flows  sweeping  past  with  the  aspect  of  irre- 
sistible power,  and,  five  miles  below,  loses  himself  again 
in  the  bosom  of  this  cypress  desert-sea. 

Our  boat  was  not  yet  in  sight,  but  a  tall  column  of 
smoke,  in  form  like  that  which  went  before  Israel,  was 
pointed  out  to  me,  full  twelve  miles  northwardly,  rising 
skyward  from  the  level  surface  of  the  emerald  ocean  of 
forest.  The  river  itself  and  the  steamer  borne  upon  it, 
were  invisible,  being  hidden  within  the  heart  of  the  sa- 
vannah; but  we  could  trace  the  unseen  course  and  tor- 
tuous windings  of  the  flood  by  the  onward  motion  of  the 
column  of  smoke.  At  length,  after  watching  it  half  an 
hour  above  the  trees,  and  seeing  it  come  nearer,  the 
column,  the  steamer,  and  the  river  simultaneously  shot 
out  from  the  embracing  trees  a  league  off.  Oh  !  it  was 
a  grand  sight  to  behold  the  noble  steamer  plough  its 
powerful  prow  through  the  turbid  flood,  turning  aside 
like  straws  in  its  path,  floating  trees  that  would  have 
made  masts  for  line-of-battle  ships,  while  the  rushing 
of  the  waters  cleaved  by  her  bow,  and  torn  up  by  her 
wheels,  mingling  with  the  hoarse  double-note  of  her  two 
escape-pipes,  loudly  reached  our  ears.  As  she  drew 
nearer,  she  fired  a  gun  from  her  bow,  and  the  report 
echoed  from  the  cliff,  and  re-echoed  from  Fort  Rosalie, 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  285 

a  fine  old  ruin,  overhanging  tlie  lower  town,  sunk  growl- 
ing away  among  the  hills. 

We  were  soon  on  board,  and  in  possession  of  luxurious 
state-rooms,  richly  carpeted,  and  containing  elegant  beds, 
superbly  hung  with  drapery,  marble  laver  stands,  velvet- 
colored  lounges,  and  every  luxury  that  taste  could  invent. 
I  don't  wonder  now  that  the  people  travel  so  much  here, 
^he  boat  is  a  regular  packet  between  Vicksburg  and 
New  Orleans,  and  being  always  filled  with  wealth  and 
fashion — for  the  travel  up  and  down  the  river  of  the 
planters  and  their  families  is  immense — the  saloons  of  a 
steamer  are  like  a  continual  Lev^e. 

But  we  did  not  long  delay  in  our  gorgeous  state-rooms, 
inviting  as  they  were; — Isabel  and  I,  taking  the  colonel's 
arms,  and  making  him  a  secure  prisoner — he  surrendering 
his  liberty  gracefully — went  to  the  upper  deck,  to  take 
a  farewell  view  of  Natchez,  that  hospitable,  wealthy, 
and  polished  town,  which  has  so  often  been  spoken  of  by 
travelers,  as  the  most  charming  place  in  the  sunny  South 
— a  testimony  to  which  I  freely  add  my  own.  We  had 
left  dear  friends  there,  and  we  could  see  some  of  them 
waving  their  handkerchiefs  or  hats  from  carriage-windows 
or  on  horseback,  which  signals  of  friendship  we  answered 
as  long  as  we  could  distinguish  the  flutter  of  a  hand- 
kerchief. 

We  were  delighted  with  the  scenery — with  the  fine  old 
hills,  broken  into  precipices  of  the  most  romantic  shapes 
and  wildest  beauty.  The  spires  and  towers  of  the  city 
appeared  with  striking  efi'ect  above  the  clifi";  but  the 
most  prominent  object  of  all  was  the  green  parapet  and 
glacis  of  Fort  Panmure,  or  Rosalie,  as  the  French 
anciently  termed  it. 


286  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

This  truly  picturesque  fort  has  been  the  scene  of  many 
a  thrilling  romance.  The  pens  of  Griffith,  of  Monette, 
of  Dupee,  have  invested  its  site  with  associations  of  the 
deepest  interest.  Above  its  now  verdant  embrasures  has 
floated  the  golden-hued  flag  of  Spain,  the  lily  of  Erance, 
the  double-cross  and  blood-red  ensign  of  England,  and 
more  lately  the  cheerful  stars  and  stripes  of  my  own 
country ;  and  it  is  my  patriotic  prayer  that  no  fifth  banner 
wave  above  it,  till  "time  shall  be  no  longer." 

Twenty  miles  below  Natchez,  we  passed  a  congeries  of: 
precipices  frowning  above  the  river,  called  the  "White 
Cliffs."  They  are  broken  and  cloven  by  the  sapping  of 
the  river  into  the  hundreds  of  fantastic  shapes;  and  as 
the  strata  are  varied  by  the  most  brilliantly-tinted  ar- 
gillaceous soils,  the  appearance  of  their  lofty  faces  is  ex* 
tremely  beautiful.  A  rainbow  seemed  to  have  been 
driven  against  it  by  the  winds,  and  left  fragments  of 
every  dye  staining  its  sides.  One  of  the  cliffs  stands 
alone,  and  from  the  shape  of  its  summit,  which  seems  to 
be  crested  with  a  battlement,  it  is  called  "The  Castle." 

It  was  proposed  by  Isabel,  that  it  should  henceforth 
be  named  "  Castle  Kossuth,"  which  suggestion  was  carried 

by  acclamation.     Please,  therefore,  Mr. ,  make  the 

whole  world  and  "the  rest  of  mankind"  advised  of  this 
addition.  Isabel  is  quite  carried  away  with  the  great 
Magyar,  and  has  named  fifty  things  after  him;  and  I 
fear,  if  he  were  a  single  gentleman,  she  would  not  hesitate 
the  turning  of  a  silver  three-cent  piece  to  be  herself 
also  named  after  him.  I  wonder  Madame  Kossuth  isn't 
jealous!  I  wouldn't  like  my  husband — but  no  matter. 
In  my  next  I  will  tell  you  what  I  think  about  Mr.  Kos- 
suth ;  for  one  lady's  opinion  of  one  of  the  other  sex,  Mr. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  287 

,  is  worth  that  of  fifty  men.     We  women  see  and 

understand  instinctively.  You  men  cogitate,  reason, 
hem,  and  haw,  and  then — judge  wrong  always.  Ah,  if 
gentlemen  in  business  would  ask  their  wives'  opinions  of 
such  and  such  men  they  deal  with,  be  sure  they  would 
save  them  a  great  deal  of  loss  and  vexation.  The  good 
old  Bible  term,  "help  meet,"  means  vastly  more  than  the 
"lords  matrimonial"  ever  guessed  at.  But,  dear  me 
— One  of  the  cliffs  is  divided,  leaving  a  pair  of  pinnacles. 
From  one  to  the  other  an  Indian  girl,  pursued  by  a 
vengeful  lover,  leaped,  and  saved  her  life.  It  was  a 
fearful  gulf  across  which  she  bounded;  and  only  wings 
of  fear  could  have  compassed  it  in  safety.  The  incident 
has  drawn  from  the  graceful  pen  of  John  T.  Griffith,  Esq., 
a  planter  in  the  vicinity,  a  charming  story,  called  "The 
Fawn's  Leap." 

It  was  first  published  in  one  of  the  earliest,  if  not  the 
earliest  numbers  of  the  old  "Atlantic  Souvenir."  I  read 
it  when  a  child  with  great  delight.  I  wish  you  would 
discover  it  and  republish  it.  Mr.  Griffith  is  a  native  of 
Princeton,  N.  J.,  and  cousin  of  Commodore  Stockton,  and 
in  him  one  of  the  first  American  writers  has  been  spoiled 
by  opulence  in  estate.  If  Mr.  G.  had  been  compelled  to 
write  as  an  author,  he  would,  now  in  his  fiftieth  year,  have 
stood  at  the  head  of  American  writers. 

As  evening  drew  near,  we  descended  from  our  elevated 
promenade  to  the  ladies'  cabin.  It  was  lighted  by  clus- 
ters of  chandeliers  of  the  richest  description,  resplendent 
with  a  thousand  trembling  prisms.  Six  chandeliers  at 
equal  distances  revealed  a  series  of  connected  saloons, 
with  the  intervening  folding  doors  thrown  back,  fully 
two  hundred  feet  in  length.     Along  the  centre,  extended 


288  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR,  \i 

for  eighty  feet,  stood  a  table  for  supper,  that,  in  its  per-  -^ 
feet   and  sumptuous  arrangements,  rivaled  that  at  the 
"  Irving,"  "  Girard,"  or  any  first  rate  hotel.     Indeed,  the 
first  class  steamers  now  are  first  class  hotels  fioating  !     I 
am  not  surprised  at  the  gentleman,  who,  for  three  or  four 
trips,  retained  his  stateroom,  never  going  on  shore  at 
either  port,  until,  being  suspected  of  being  some  myste-  , 
rious  character  who  had  designs  forbidden  by  the  eighth  '' 
Commandment,  he  was  questioned  by  the  captain.     In 
reply,  he  said : 

"  My  dear  sir,  I  find  your  boat  so  comfortable,  your 
table  so  luxurious,  your  officers  so  polite,  your  servants 
so  attentive,  and  such  varied  company  enliven  your 
cabins,  that,  being  a  person  of  leisure  and  fortune,  I 
prefer  residing  with  you,  at  least  till  the  St.  Charles  is 
rebuilt.  I  trust  you  will  have  no  objection  to  a  perma-  % 
nent  passenger!" 

The  vanity  of  the  gallant  captain  took  the  place  of 
his  apprehensions,  and,  bowing  politely,  he  left  this  gen- 
tleman of  good  taste  to  enjoy  himself  as  he  pleased — a 
privilege  which  I  will  now  allow  to  all  my  good  friends 
who  have  read  thus  far  in  this  poor  letter,  which  I  mis- 
givingly  tend  to  the  tender  mercies  of  all  post-masters, 
mail-carriers,  and  mail-bags  on  the  route  between  this 
place  and  your  fair  city. 

Very  respectfully, 

I  am  your  friend, 

Kate. 


THE    SOUTHERNER    AT   HOME.  289 


LETTER    XXXV. 

My  DEAR  Mr. : 

My  last  "Needle"  left  me  a  voyager  upon  the  Mis- 
sissippi, on  my  way  to  New  Orleans,  on  board  one  of  the 
elegant  packets  that  ply  between  that  city  and  Natchez. 
If  you  have  never  been  a  guest  on  one  of  these  noble 
vessels  that  constantly  plow  the  bosom  of  the  monarch 
of  waters,  you  can  form  no  idea  of  the  variety  of  interest 
and  entertainment  to  be  drawn  from  a  trip  on  one  of 
them.  Let  me  describe  the  interior  scenes  of  our  cabin 
the  first  evening  after  leaving  Natchez.  In  one  corner 
of  the  superbly-lighted  saloon  was  a  group  composed  of 
three  lovely,  dark-eyed  Southern  girls,  a  handsome  young 
man,  and  an  elderly  gentleman,  with  a  fine.  General 
"Washington  head,  who  was  dressed  in  a  blue  coat,  white 
vest  with  gilt  buttons,  and  drab  pantaloons,  terminating 
in  polished  boots — a  real  fine  old  Southern  gentleman, 
with  princely  manners.  They  are  all  engaged  in  seem- 
ingly very  interesting  conversation,  and  the  girls  laugh 
a  great  deal  and  merrily,  and  seem  to  refer  everything 
with  a  charming  familiarity,  yet  respectful  affection,  to  the 
snowy  headed  gentleman,  who  seems  to  be  in  the  most  ad- 
mirable humor.  His  full,  hearty,  cheery  laugh  does  one 
good  to  hear,  especially  when  one  sees  his  fine  face  lighted 
up  with  benevolence  and  kindliness. 
''    The  three  girls  seem  to  be  teazing  him  to  consent  to 

19 


290  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

some  request,  while  the  handsome  young  man  looks  on 
and  enjoys  the  scene.  I  don't  hear  a  word  they  say,  but 
I  know  they  are  all  happy,  and  I  sympathize  with  their 
joy.  Oh !  how  many  ten  thousands  of  happy  groups 
there  are  in  all  the  world  as  happy,  whose  voices  I  not 
only  do  not  hear,  but  whom  I  do  not  see,  and  never  shall 
see,  nor  know,  (until  I  get  to  Heaven,)  that  they  ever 
existed  !  Every  hour  there  is  a  world  full  of  joy  felt  by 
millions,  whose  hearts  beat  like  mine,  and  if  all  the  happy 
laughter  that  at  this  moment,  while  I  write  this  line, 
could  be  heard  at  once  thrilling  through  the  air,  we 
should  think  all  the  stars  of  God  were  shouting  for  joy, 
and  all  the  music  of  Heaven  to  be  floating  around  the 
earth  !  Indeed,  this  world  is  a  happy  world,  and  if  tens 
of  thousands  of  hearts  in  it  daily  beat 

"Funeral  marches  to  the  grave," 

tens  of  thousands  of  other  hearts  bound  with  all  the 
delight  of  joyous  life. 

I  have  often  thought,  when  I  reflected  upon  the  sweet 
and  gentle  characters  of  the  dear  friends  I  find  wherever 
I  go,  and  learn  to  love  ere  I  part  from  them,  that  there 
must  be  in  this  God's  good  world,  in  thousands  of  places 
■where  I  never  have  been,  nor  ever  shall  be,  glorious 
armies  of  as  sweet  and  gentle,  of  as  intellectual  and 
loveable  ones,  whom,  if  I  knew  them,  one  and  all,  I 
should  love,  and  they  would  love  me.  I  sigh  to  think 
that  I  live  on  the  same  green  earth,  a  life  long  with  a 
legion  of  loving  spirits  congenial  with  mine,  and  never 
see  them  face  to  face,  and  that  all  of  us  will  go  down  to 
the  shades  of  death,  ignorant  that  the  others  had  been 
created.     But,  when  I  begin  to  regret  this,  Christianity 


%' 


THE   SOUTHERNER  AT   HOME.  291 

tinfolds  to  my  eye  of  faith,  the  world  of  undying  life  be- 
yond the  tomb ;  and  I  console  myself  with  the  thought 
that  "  There  I  shall  see  them  and  know  them  all,  and  be 
known  and  loved  of  them !  There  the  veil  which  sepa- 
^rates  us  congenial  ones  in  this  life  will  be  removed,  and 
I  shall  see  and  know  them  all ;  not  one  of  us  all  will  be  lost 
to  the  others  there!"    But  my  pen  is  a  great  truant,  Mr. 

.     It  will  not  so  much  follow  facts  as  wander  after 

thoughts.     It  is  like  the  "busy  bee," 

"  Gathering  honey  all  the  day, 
From  every  opening  flower." 

In  the  opposite  corner  of  the  saloon  sits,  or  rather  in- 
clines a  little  out  of  the  shade  of  the  chandelier,  yet  so 
that  the  light  falls  in  soft  transparent  shadow  upon  her 
transparent  features,  an  invalid  lady  of  thirty  years! 
Kneeling  by  her  footstool  is  an  Africaness,  with  a  scarlet 
kerchief  bound  about  her  crispy  brow,  who  looks  up  into 
the  pure  intelligent  face  of  the  lady  with  watchful  solici- 
tude, while  with  a  gorgeous  fan  of  peacock's  feathers, 
she  slowly  and  gently  creates  a  zephyr-like  air  about 
her.  There  is  something  in  the  countenance  of  the  in- 
valid that  is  touchingly  beautiful.  It  is  a  face  that  looks 
as  if  it  were  spiritualized  by  suffering.  Her  dark,  intel- 
ligent eyes,  unnaturally  large  and  bright,  uneasily  wander 
about  the  saloon.  The  presence  of  strangers  seems  to 
alarm  and  distress  her.  Yet  her  looks  are  peaceful, 
calm,  and  resigned,  like  one  whom  sorrow  hath  chas- 
tened, and  who  hath  learned  to  say  to  pain,  "  Thou  art 
my  sister!" 

I  feel  a  deep  interest  in  her,  and  will  approach  her, 


292  THE   SUNNY  SOUTH;    OR, 

and  speak  gently  to  her,  and  offer  my  services ;  for  she 
seems  to  be  alone,  save  her  faithful  attendant. 

Hark !  pulse-leaping  music  rolls  from  a  grand  piano 
through  the  noble  saloon.  A  tall,  graceful,  blue-eyed 
lady,  whom,  with  her  husband,  we  took  on  board  at  a 
wood-yard  an  hour  ago,  has  seated  herself  at  the  instru- 
ment, at  the  solicitation  of  several  gentlemen  and  ladies, 
who  seem  to  know  her,  for  on  these  Southern  boats 
everybody  seems  to  know  everybody,  and  feels  as  much 
at  home  as  on  their  own  plantations.  What  superb 
melody  her  magic  fingers  draw  from  the  ivory  keys !  I 
cease  writing  in  my  note-book  to  listen  at  a  perfect 
April-shower  of  harmony — sun-shine,  rainbows,  thunder,  i 
singing  birds,  and  ringing  rain  drops,  all  bewilderingly 
and  joyously  heard  together!  The  "fine  old  Southern 
gentleman"  first  pricked  up  his  ears,  and  then  rose  and 
advanced ;  the  three  graces  forgot  to  tease  him,  and  hung 
breathlessly  over  the  piano.  The  lady  commenced  sing- 
ing Casta  Diva.  The  invalid  raised  her  gloriously 
bright  eyes,  and  her  pearl-hued  cheek  flushed  with  a 
tint  as  delicate  as  the  reflections  of  a  rose-leaf;  and  with 
parted  lips  she  seemed  to  drink  in  the  melodious  waves 
of  air,  and  receive  them  into  her  very  soul.  IIow  se- 
raphically  she  smiles  as  she  listens !  Oh,  music  is  heaven- 
born  !  Music  can  reach  the  soul  of  the  dying  when  it  is 
deaf  to  the  voice  of  earthly  love !  Once  I  watched  at 
midnight  by  the  bedside  of  a  loved  and  dying  maiden, 
whose  brow  the  day  before  had  been  blessed  with  the 
waters  of  baptism. 

"Sing  to  me,  dearest  Kate, — sing  to  me,"  she  whis- 
pered. "  I  am  dying.  Sing  to  me,  and  let  me  hear 
your  voice  the  last  sound  of  earth!    I  feel  that  my  soul 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  293 

fe  going  alone.  Alone,  into  the  vast  void  that  stretches 
between  time  and  eternity.  Oh,  sing  to  me  as  you  find 
my  spirit  departing,  that  my  wandering  soul  may  have 
some  sound  of  earth  to  cling  to  as  it  launches  into  that 
dread  unknown!" 

So  I  sang  to  her,  and  her  soul  took  flight  on  the 
wings  of  the  sweet  words, 

"  I  would  not  live  alway — no,  welcome  the  tomb ; 
Since  Jesus  hath  lain  there,  I  dread  not  its  gloom. 
There  sweet  be  my  rest,  till  he  bid  me  arise, 
To  hail  him  in  triumph  descending  the  skies." 

The  graceful  stranger  who  had  taken  her  seat  at  the 
piano,  soon  gathered  about  her  not  only  all  the  ladies 
and  gentlemen  in  our  cabin,  but  the  gentlemen  in  the 
great  saloon  left  their  politics  to  advance  and  listen, 
others  laid  down  their  books  and  newspapers,  and  even 
parties  rose  from  their  cards  to  come  nigh  her !  There 
"was  a  perfect  jam  about  the  cabin  entrance — tiers  of  heads 
beyond  tiers  of  heads !  I  myself  was  perfectly  entranced 
by  the  syren.  Without  apparent  effort  she  would  pour 
and  pour,  and  pour  forth  from  her  superbly-shaped  throat, 
liquid  globules  of  melody,  that  intoxicated  the  ear  of  the 
listener  with  hitherto  unknown  pleasure.  She  brought 
tears  into  many  eyes  by  the  tenderest  pathos,  and  again 
dispelled  the  tears  by  successive  outbursts  of  the  liveliest 
strains  of  wild,  rich,  song.  Now  she  would  fill  all  the 
saloon  with  a  storm  of  notes,  gorgeous  and  grand,  and 
unearthly  beyond  conception;  torrents  of  music,  music, 
music,  loud,  wild,  and  terrible,  seemed  to  be  roaring 
around  us  in  one  continuous  overwhelming  cataract;  and 
ifhen  we  could  bear  no  more,  a  sudden  and  instantaneous 


294:  THE    SUNNY    SOUTH;    OR, 

cessation  of  keys  and  voice  would  be  succeeded  by  a  soft 
gentle,  loving  air,  as  simple  and  clear  as  that  of  a  bird. 
This  bird-like  air  warbled  in  her  throat,  would  seem  to 
ascend  and  ascend,  and  mount  and  soar,  and  still  ascend 
far  upwards,  rise  higher  and  higher,  higher  and  higher, 
growing  sweeter  and  fainter,  ascending,  and  still  ascend- 
ing, until,  breathless  with  enchantment,  we  listened  till 
we  lost  the  far  off  voice  of  the  lark -like  notes  in  the 
skies — dying  away  at  length  into  a  sacred  silence. 
Every  heart  suspended  its  beating!  With  lips  parted, 
eyes  raised  upwards,  and  ears  intent,  stood  every  one  of 
the  eager  and  bewitched  listeners,  as  if  an  angel  had 
gone  singing  up  into  heaven,  out  of  their  sight. 

A  sudden  crash  of  music  startles  the  silence,  as  if 
thunder  had  burst  from  the  skies  upon  our  heads !  It  is 
one  grand  sweep  of  the  fingers  of  the  charmer  over  every 
key  of  the  instrument,  in  an  overpowering  finale,  when, 
rising  from  her  seat,  she  seeks  blushingly  and  modestly 
her  husband's  eye  and  arm,  amid  the  most  rapturous  and 
prolonged  applause.  ff  1^  !<  •' 

"Who  can  she  be?  It  must  be  Jenny  Lind!  or  it  is 
certainly  Kate  Hayes!"  said  fifty  voices.     But  it  was 

neither  of  these!     All  musical  talent,  Mr. ,  is  not 

displayed  in  concert  rooms.  In  private  life,  among 
American  ladies,  especially  among  the  highly-educated 
Southerners,  to  whom  music  is  a  native  air,  there  is  as 
much  talent  as  is  possessed  by  Miss  Lind,  or  Miss  Hayes, 
or  Madame  Parodi.  This  sweet  stranger  and  noble  per- 
former was  a  Mrs.  W h,  a  young  married  lady,  whose 

husband's  plantation  was  near  the  point  where  they  em- 
barked, not  many  leagues  below  Natchez,  of  which  she  is 
a  native.     Miss  Cole,  formerly  of  New  Rochelle,  Miss 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  295 

Watson,  of  Nashville,  and  many  others,  I  can  name,  sing 
Casta  Diva  and  a  score  of  other  operatic  pieces,  with  as 
I  much  effect  and  feeling  as  any  cantatrice  that  ever  ap- 
'  peared  hefore  a  public  assembly.     America  has   more 
musical  talent  and  skill  buried  in  the  retirement  of  her 
Southern  plantations,  or  adorning  her  Northern  drawing- 
rooms,  than  Sweden,  Italy,  or  Germany  possess,  in  all 
;  their  valleys  and  amid  all  their  romantic  scenery. 

Should  circumstances  call  them  to  make  use  of  their 
talent  and  genius  as  a  means  of  support,  our  ladies  could 
"beat"  Europe  in  operatic  music  as  our  gentlemen  have 
lately  done  in  yachting.  Biscaccianti — withal  her  Italian 
husband's  name  substituted  for  her  own — ^is  an  American 
girl,  with  whom  I  once  met  in  her  school !  This  intel- 
lectual and  soul-full  Biscaccianti  has  not  at  present  her 
equal  in  opera  song.  She  has  the  key  to  our  joi/s  and 
tears.  I  learn  that  she  has  lately  sailed  for  California, 
to  awaken  there  the  echoes  of  the  "Golden  Gate." 
Should  it  "grate  harsh  thunder"  before  her  approach,  at 
the  sound  of  this  songstress'  silvery  voice,  it  will  swing 
wide,  like  Milton's  Celestial  portal 

"  On  harmonious  hinges  turning." 

Yours, 
Kate. 

P.  S.  I  have  dated  this  and  two  preceding  letters  from 
"Chateau  de  Clery."  This  is  the  sugar  estate  of  a 
French  gentleman  of  this  name,  where  I  am  sojourning 
for  a  few  weeks,  and  from  which  I  shall  write  you  some 
accounts  of  life  in  the  villas  of  the  opulent  Louisianaises. 


296  THE  SUNNY  south;  or. 


LETTER    XXXVI. 

My  Dear  Mr. : 

How  shall  my  feeble  pen  describe  to  you  the  beauty 
of  the  scenery  of  the  Lower  Mississippi !  If  the  northern 
portion  of  this  mighty  flood,  as  it  rolls  forever  and  ever 
amid  its  dark  wildernesses,  is  gloomy  and  awe  inspiring, 
the  southern  arm  is  infinitely  more  beautiful.  One  or 
two  of  my  last  letters  have  been  devoted  to  a  sketch  of 
our  trip  from  Natchez  towards  New  Orleans.  It  is  at 
Natchez  that  the  wild  forest-like  character  of  the  Miss- 
issippi begins  to  assume  the  more  cheerful  features  of 
varied  scenery,  and  cultivated  savannahs. 

Natchez  itself  sits  like  a  queen  crowning  a  fortress- 
looking  cliff,  and  extending  her  sceptre  over  the  verdant 
plains  and  smiling  valleys  of  Louisiana.  Then  twenty 
miles  below  this  city  frown  down  upon  the  voyager  tlie 
craggy  peaks  and  tower-like  walls  of  "Ellis  Cliffs." 
From  that  point  till  Baton  Rouge  comes  in  sight,  the 
shores  become  more  open,  and  the  banks  more  interesting 
with  cliff,  upland,  and  many  a  green  spot  of  rustic  loveli- 
ness, where  the  blue  smoke  curling  upwards  amid  deep 
foliage,  betrays  the  secluded  home  of  the  planter. 

A  few  leagues  above  Baton  Rouge,  the  cotton  fields 
cease,  and  for  these  snow-white  acres  is  beheld  the  tall, 
straight  sugar-cane  waving  to  the  breeze  for  many  a 
league.     Until  I  came  in  sight  of  the  first  sugar  estate, 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  297 

I  was  not  aware  of  the  distinctness  with  which  the  linea 
of  climate  that  mark  the  locality  of  our  country's  dif- 
ferent staples  can  be  discerned.  In  descending  the 
Upper  Mississippi,  the  last  wheat  field  was  taken  leave 
of  at  the  same  moment  the  first  cotton  plantation  was 
pointed  out  to  me ;  and  after  sailing  eight  degrees  through 
the  cotton  latitudes,  the  last  cotton  plantation  and  the 
first  sugar  estate  meet  not  far  above  Baton  Rouge.  Thus 
the  advance  with  majestic  progression  on  one  of  these 
mammoth  steamers  down  through  the  latitudes,  has  in  it 
something  of  the  sublime.  But  I  regret  to  leave  the 
pure,  white  plains  of  spotless  cotton  fleece,  than  which 
nothing  can  be  more  charming  to  the  eye.  I  shall  never 
forget  when  one  morning  as  I  rose  from  breakfast,  at  Lake 
Providence,  the  gentleman,  at  whose  house  we  were 
guests,  cried, 

"  Come,  Miss  Kate,  ride  with  me,  and  I  will  show  you 
a  sight  worth  going  across  the  ocean  to  see,  and  which 
beats  all  John  Bull  has  got  in  the  Crystal  Palace." 

After  twenty  minutes'  gallop  along  the  arrowy  shores 
of  the  lake,  we  drew  rein  on  the  verge  of  a  cotton-field. 

"Now  hold  by  that  branch,  and  stand  upright  in  your 
saddle,  Kate,  and  look  before  you,"  he  said. 

I  did  so,  and  beheld  a  level  expanse,  containing  eleven 
hundred  acres  in  cotton,  without  fence  or  ridge  to  break 
the  beautiful  spectacle.  The  plant  was  in  full  boll,  hang- 
ing to  the  hand  of  the  picker  in  the  richest  luxuriance. 
A  small  army  of  slaves,  whose  black  faces  contrasted 
oddly  with  the  white  fields,  were  marching  onward 
through  it  gathering  the  white  wreaths,  and  heaping 
therewith  their  baskets,  while  the  loud  musical  chorus 
of  their  leader's  voice,  to  which  their  own  kept  tune, 


298  THE    SUNNY    SOUTH;    OR, 

as  he  sang  "the  picker's  song,"  fell  cheerfully  on  my 
oars. 

"  That  field  alone,"  said  the  major,  with  a  sparkling 
eye,  "is  worth  $60,000." 

Oh,  the  wealth  of  these  cotton-planters,  Mr. ! 

But  if  they  are  rich,  what  shall  be  said  of  the  owners 
of  the  sugar  estates,  which  are  far  more  profitable  to 
cultivate  than  cotton  plantations  I  Our  New  England 
farmers  have  no  conception  of  the  riches  of  these  South- 
ern people.  Let  me  give  you  an  instance  of  the  manner 
in  which  money  accumulates  here.  A  young  gentleman, 
whom  I  know  near  Natchez,  received,  at  twenty-one 
years  of  age,  thirty  slaves  from  his  father,  and  fourteen 
hundred  acres  of  wild  forest  land  on  the  Mississippi. 
He  took  his  hands  there,  and  commenced  clearing. 
Thirty  axes  do  vast  execution  in  a  wood.  As  he  cleared 
he  piled  up  the  cloven  timber  into  fire-Avood  length,  and 
sold  it  to  passing  steamers  at  $2  50  a  cord.  The  first  year 
he  took  $12,000  in  cash  for  wood  alone.  The  second 
year  he  raised  80  bales  of  cotton,  which  he  sold  at  $50 
a  bale,  and  he  also  sold  wood  to  the  amount  of  $14,000 
more.  The  third  year  he  sold  150  bales  of  cotton,  and 
cleared  by  wood  $10,000,  which,  with  $8,000  his  cotton 
sold  for,  brought  him  an  income  of  $18,000.  Out  of 
this  the  expense  for  feeding  and  clothing  his  thirty  slaves 
per  annum  was  less  than  $1,800.  The  young  man,  not 
yet  twenty-nine,  is  now  a  rich  planter,  with  a  hundred 
slaves,  and  is  making  500  bales  of  cotton  at  a  crop. 

Excuse  these  business-looking  figures,  Mr. ,  but  in 

these  days  ladies  are  expected  to  know  about  such  things, 
you  know,  and  if  I  have  learned  such  facts  it  is  no  harm 
for  me  to  write  them.     If  I  were  writing  from  Lapland, 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOAIE.  299 

I  should,  perhaps,  tell  you  how  many  reindeer's  skins 
went  to  make  a  young  girl's  marriage  portion. 

It  was  half  an  hour  before  sunset  when  we  came  in 
sight  of  Baton  Rouge,  the  capital  of  Louisiana.  The 
State-house,  large  and  white,  loomed  grandly  up,  and 
overtowering  the  town  belittled  it  so  that  its  best  houses 
seemed  no  bigger  than  cottages.  The  place  is  small, 
but  flanked  by  United  States  Barracks  on  one  side,  and 
by  the  Capitol  on  the  other.  The  star-spangled  banner 
was  flying  at  the  top  of  the  government  flag-staff,  and 
flaunted  saucily  in  the  breeze. 

"  There  is  General  Taylor's  house,"  cried  the  captain 
of  our  steamer,  who,  by-the-way,  is  a  great  lady's  man, 
and  the  civilest  spoken  gentleman  to  be  a  rough,  wea- 
ther-beaten Mississippi  commander  I  ever  knew. 

He  directed  my  gaze  to  a  small,  white  dwelling  on  the 
verge  of  the  parade-ground,  with  its  garden  descending 
to  the  water-side.  It  was  an  humble  home,  and  would 
not  have  been  too  fine  for  the  sergeant  to  live  in.  I 
gazed  upon  the  spot  with  those  indescribable  emotions 
with  which  we  always  gaze  upon  localities  with  which 
eminent  men  have  once  been  associated. 

"  From  that  unpretending  abode  he  went  forth  to  the 
conquest  of  Mexico,"  said  Colonel  Peyton,  addressing 
Isabel  and  me,  "  and  from  it  a  second  time  he  was  called 
to  preside  over  the  destinies  of  the  Union." 

"  His  body  lies  buried  beneath  the  trees  there,"  said 
one  of  the  passengers. 

"  No,  answered  our  captain,  "  his  remains  were  taken 
to  Kentucky." 

"There  is  old  Whitey,"  exclaimed  a  beautiful  young 
girl  near  me,  one  of  those  who  had  come  on  board  at 


300  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

Natchez.  "  Dear  old  Whitey ;  he  deserves  that  the  girls 
of  Baton  Rouge  should  every  day  crown  him  with  flow- 
ers, and  interwreath  his  mane  with  the  gayest  ribbons." 

Sure  enough  I  saw  the  ancient  war-horse  himself.  He 
was  grazing  quietly  on  the  slope  of  the  parade-ground; 
but  at  the  noise  of  our  passing  boat,  he  raised  his  aged 
head  to  regard  us  philosophically !  He  looks  venerable, 
but  has  not  lost  his  symmetry;  and  they  say  that  at  the 
sound  of  the  morning  and  evening  gun  he  pricks  up  his 
ears,  tosses  his  head,  flings  his  gray  mane  abroad,  and 
canters  into  the  smoke,  snuffing  it  up,  and  neighing  like 
a  trumpet. 

I  walked  through  the  four  or  five  pretty  streets  that 
constitute  Baton  Rouge.  It  is  a  French  looking  town  yet, 
though  French  manners  with  the  language  have  given 
way  to  a  highly-polished  American  population.  The 
streets  are  prettily  shaded;  the  houses  have  verandahs; 
ladies  were  in  the  balconies;  beautiful  olive-cheeked 
children,  with  hair  dressed  a  la  Suisse,  promenaded  the 
sidewalks ;  servants  were  indolently  occupying  the  door- 
sides,  and  a  few  carriages  drive  through  the  streets.  I 
was  on  the  whole  agreeably  impressed  with  Baton  Rouge, 
and  think  it  would  be  a  charming  residence.  It  is  one 
hundred  and  thirty  miles  above  New  Orleans ;  and  from 
this  point  begins  the  superb  scenery  of  that  part  of  the 
river  called  "the  Coast."*     The  moon  was  up  when 

*  "  The  portion  of  the  river  Mississippi,  which  lies  towards 
the  Mexican  Gulf,  for  a  distance  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles 
above  its  mouth,  has  been  called  the  '  Coast,'  from  the  earliest 
settlement  of  the  country.  The  reason  why  this  misnomer  has 
been  thus  given  to  the  banks  of  the  Southern  Mississippi,  is 
unknown." — History  of  Louisiana. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  301 

we  left  Baton  Rouge,  after  an  hour's  delay,  and  with 
the  addition  to  our  passengers  of  some  forty  members  of 
the  Legislature,  most  of  them  with  French  physiogno- 
mies, we  resumed  our  voyage  down  the  stream. 

Wishing  you,  Mr. ,  a  safe  voyage  down  the  stream 

of  life,  I  remain, 

Your  faithful  friend, 

Kate. 


802  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 


LETTER    XXXVII. 


My  Dear  Mr. : 

If  you  see  a  report  going  the  rounds  of  certain  bar- 
barous journals  that  I  am  married,  I  forbid  your  copying 
it,  and  command  you  to  contradict  it.  It  is  a  shame 
how  some  of  these  bachelor  editors  will  make  use  of  a 
young  lady's  name.  If  one  protests,  they  say,  "It  is 
only  a  paragraph,"  and  each  one  scissors  away  and  sets 
up  his  type,  without  caring  who  is  hurt,  so  that  his 
paper  is  "racy."  I  am  not  married;  and  when  I  am,  I 
desire  it  to  be  properly  announced,  under  the  head  of 
Marriages,  like  those  of  other  people,  and  not  blazoned 
en  paragraphe  in  an  editor's  column.  Why.  the  bare 
idea  of  being  thus  paragraphed,  is  enough  to  prevent 
any  modest  young  man  from  proposing,  much  less  mar- 
rying, at  such  a  venture. 

So,  please,  Mr.  ,  don't  paragraph  my  marriage, 

even  should  you  hear  of  it;  and  if  you  catch  that  ugly, 
little  paragraph  about  me  going  the  rounds  of  those  ever- 
lasting echoing  country  papers,  put  your  finger  upon  it, 
and  annihilate  it.  It  originated  somewhere  in  Oktibbe- 
haw  county,  in  a  paper  called  the  Independent  Rifle 
Ranger,  the  editor  of  which  is  the  intelligent  gentleman 
who  took  a  telegraph  wire,  stretched  across  the  country, 
to  be  the  Tropic  of  Cancer. 


THE   SOUTHERNER    AT   HOME.  303 

In  my  last  we  were  just  quitting  Baton  Rouge,  the 
rural  and  Franco-American  capital  of  Louisiana.  The 
name  of  this  place  (Red  Pole)  originated  in  a  very  pretty 
buccaneering  custom  of  the  olden  times  of  this  romantic 
corner  of  the  New  World. 

"You  see,  ma'am,"  said  our  old  pilot,  who  told  me  the 
story, — for  these  ancient  river-gods  of  the  Mississippi 
are  tremendous  story-tellers,  (I  don't  mean  fibbers,  Mr. 

,)  and  they  always  have  a  grand,  great  story  about 

every  bend,  point,  island,  bluff,  and  pass  in  the  river, — 
"you  see,  ma'am,  in  them  old  Frenchified  times,  folks 
didn't  care  'mazin  much  'bout  law,  nor  gospel  neither. 
If  a  man  killed  another,  why,  if  there  was  any  relative 
of  the  killed  man,  he'd  take  it  up,  and  shoot  the  other ; 
and  so  it  went,  every  man  his  OAvn  lawyer.  Well,  there 
was  no  steamboats  them  days,  and  keelers  used  to  float 
down  from  up  country,  filled  with  peltry  and  sich  goods 
for  the  Orleans  market.  There  wasn't  many  men  on 
board  to  man  'em — pr'aps  seven  or  nine;  but  they  kept 
well  out  in  the  middle  o'  the  stream,  at  long  shot  from 
the  Indian's  arrers,  and  the  Frenchman's  gun.  But 
there  was  a  regular  band  o'  pirates  lived  on  the  river 
where  Baton  Rouge  now  is,  and  they  had  a  captain,  and 
numbered  fifty  men  or  more — awful  rascals ;  every  one 
on  'em — ^had  done  enough  murder  to  hang  seven  honest 
Christians.  This  captain  was  the  essence  on  'em,  all 
biled  down  for  deviltry  and  wickedness;  and  yet  they 
say  he  was  young,  almost  a  boy,  plaguy  handsome  fel- 
low, with  an  eye  like  a  woman,  and  a  smile  like  a  hyena; 
and  his  men  were  as  afraid  of  him  as  death. 

"  Well,  he  lived  in  a  sort  of  castle  of  his  own,  over  on 
the  little  rise  you  see,  near  the  town,  and  people  said  he 


304  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

had,  begging  your  pardon,  ma'am,  as  many  wives  as  old 
Captain  Bluebeard,  and  killed  'em  as  easy.  Well,  he 
had  a  lookout  kept  on  the  point  just  in  the  bend,  and 
there  had  a  red  pole  raised  to  hoist  a  flag  on.  When  liis 
men  saw  a  boat  coming  in  sight,  they'd  hoist  a  green  flag 
to  the  top  o'  the  pole,  and  in  the  night  a  green  lantern ; 
for  he  was  a  great  friend  to  green  color,  and  wore  green 
velvet  himself  like  a  foreign  lord. 

"  When  he'd  see  the  light  or  the  flag,  he'd  wind  his 
silver  bugle  and  collect  his  men  to  the  boats,  and  when 
the  keeler  would  get  nearly  opposite,  he'd  shout  like 
twenty  heathens,  and  dart  out  with  his  seven  barges  upon 
the  descending  craft.  It  was  short  work  they  made  then. 
A  rush,  and  leaping  on  board,  a  few  pistol  shots  and 
cutlass  blows,  and  the  crew  were  dead  or  overboard.  The 
prize  was  then  towed  into  the  cove  beneath  the  castle, 
and  plundered,  and  set  on  fire.  Them  were  rough  and  , 
bloody  times.  Miss  !"  | 

The  pilot,  finding  his  cigar  had  gone  out,  drew  a  loco-  | 
foco  match  from  his  VQst  pocket,  ignited  it  by  drawing  it  I 
across  his  horny  thumb-nail,  relighted  his  cigar,  and.  | 
began  to  scan  the  appearance  of  the  sky,  which  looked  | 
fitful.  But  I  was  too  much  interested  in  my  Green  Cor- 
sair of  the  Rouge  Baton  to  let  his  story  end  there ;  so  I 
said :  I 

"  Please  tell  me,  Mr.  Bedlow,  what  became  of  this  man  | 
and  his  crew  ?  "  ' 

"  Some  say  he  was  shot  in  the  Public  Plaza,  in  New 
Orleans,  by  the  Spanish  Governor ;  but  I  heard  an  old 
pilot  say,  that  he  was  assassinated  by  a  young  woman  he 
had  captured;  and  that  is  likely  by  all  accounts." 


THE    SOUTHERNER    AT    HOME.  805 

"  How  was  it  ?"  I  inquired,  seeing  that  the  old  man'8 
eye  looked  communicative. 

"  On  one  of  the  craft  captured  there  was  a  young  girl, 
the  skipper's  wife,  who  had  been  married  only  the  day 
afore  the  keeler  left  Pittsburgh,  and  Major  Washington 
(afterwards  General)  they  say  was  at  the  weddin',  and 
gave  away  the  bride ;  for  she  was  mighty  pretty,  and 
General  Washington,  like  a  true  soldier,  always  had  an 
eye  to  a  handsome  face.  Well,  this  pirate  took  the  craft, 
and  killed  or  driv'  overboard  all  hands,  and  he  made  the 
bride  prisoner.  He  took  her  to  his  castle,  and  was  dread- 
ful in  love  with  her.  But  she  saw  only  her  husband's 
blood  on  his  hands,  and,  taking  a  pistol  from  his  belt, 
she  shot  him  dead,  and  escaped  in  a  boat  to  New  Orleans, 
where  the  Governor  gave  her  a  thousand  crowns,  and 
afterwards  married  her.  They  say  he  took  her  to  Spain, 
and  presented  her  to  court,  and  that  she  became  one  o' 
the  greatest  ladies  in  the  Spanish  land.  That's  the  story 
I  hearn,  ma'am,  but  I  won't  vouch  for  its  Bible  truth,  for 
it's  mighty  hard  reckoning  up  things  happening  so  long 
ago." 

So  the  old  pilot  left  me,  being  called  to  the  wheel, 
while  I  pondered  on  the  story  I  had  heard,  and  gazed  on 
the  shores  about  Baton  Rouge  with  deeper  interest — so 
wonderfully  do  associations  fling  charms  about  locality. 

What  a  nice  story  some  writer  of  imagination  might 
make  out  of  this  rough-hewn  narrative  of  the  old  pilot ! 
Cooper  is  dead,  Simms  a  Senator,  Kennedy  a  politician, 
Mrs.  Lee  Hentz  an  editress.  Who  shall  we  get  to  write 
it  ?  All  the  old  novelists  have  left  the  field,  and  if  we 
do  not  have  more  new  ones  come  into  it,  there  will  be 
20 


306  .iTHE   SUNNY  SOUTH;   OR,  | 

no  more  novels.     Perhaps  the  world  would  be  wiser  and 
better.     Who  knows  yes  ?     Who  knows  no  ? 

Among  the  passengers  who  came  on  board  at  Baton 
Rouge  was  the  newly  elected  Senator  from  Louisiana  to 
Congress,  Mr.  Benjamin.  Having  heard  much  of  him, 
I  scanned  him  closely.  He  is  a  small  man,  but  made  with 
a  certain  compactness  and  dignity,  that  makes  one  forget 
his  stature  in  his  bearing.  His  face  is  very  fine,  dark,  \ 
healthy,  full,  and  pleasing.  He  resembles  General  G.  P. 
Morris,  as  this  latter  gentleman  was  some  years  ago ;  he 
has  the  same  smiling  eyes,  agreeable  mouth,  and  bonhomie 
air.  His  eyes  are  dark  and  expressive,  and  his  whole 
face  indicates  rather  good-natured  repose  and  amiable  in- 
dolence than  that  high  order  of  talent  which  has  won  for 
him,  at  little  above  thirty  years  of  age,  the  high  distinc-  I 
tion  of  representing  the  proud  state  of  Louisiana  in  the 
U.  S.  Senate. 

The  more  I  looked  at  Mr.  Benjamin,  the  more  I  was 
puzzled  to  divine  why  he  should  have  been  chosen  to  this 
high  position.  I  could  see  in  his  face  only  qualities  that 
would  attach  him  to  his  friends,  make  him  a  loving 
father,  and  a  husband  greatly  beloved  by  whatever  lady 
might  be  so  happy  as  to  hold  the  holy  relations  of  wife 
to  him ;  but  I  saw  no  indications  of  that  ruling  and  marked 
mind,  which  I  took  it  for  granted  he  ought  from  his 
fame  and  rank  to  possess.  While  I  was  observing  him,  as 
he  sat  reading,  some  gentlemen  approached  and  entered 
into  conversation  with  him,  upon  the  subject  of  the  an- 
nexation of  the  suburban  town  of  Lafayette  to  New  f 
Orleans.  His  opinion  was  referred  to.  His  eyes  opened 
and  lighted.  His  face  changed  its  whole  character,  and 
for  half  an  hour   I  listened  to   his  conversation  with 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  307 

increasing  delight  and  fascination.  I  saw  and  heard 
the  man  of  talent!  I  discovered  in  his  close  reasoning, 
his  acute  manner  of  analysis,  his  calm  self-command, 
his  thorough  knowledge  of  his  subject,  his  fluent  and 
graceful  speech,  the  causes  of  his  elevation  above  the 
men  about  him. 

His  voice  is  not  good,  and  his  size  is  against  him ;  and 
when  he  shall  first  appear  in  the  American  Senate  he 
will  not  attract  any  eye,  save  the  glance  of  wonder  at 
his  youthful  appearance,  for  he  does  not  look  above 
twenty-five.  But  they  will  find  him  their  equal — an 
eagle  among  eagles.  His  eloquence,  wisdom,  and  know- 
ledge of  afiairs  will  make  him  tell  in  the  Senatorial 
Hall.  It  was  Mr.  Benjamin,  who,  in  speaking  of  the 
progress  of  the  age,  gave  utterance  to  this  fine  sentiment 
in  one  of  his  speeches  in  the  Legislature  of  Louisiana: — 
"  The  whistle  of  the  locomotive  is  finer  music  than  the 
clarion  of  war,  and  the  thunder  of  its  wheel,  than  the 
roar  of  artillery." 

Mr.  Benjamin  is  an  Israelite.  His  election,  therefore, 
is  a  practical  illustration  of  the  free  institutions  of  our 
happy  land,  where  theological  disabilities  are  not  known. 
It  is  surprising  how  the  Jews,  I  mean  the  educated  and 
talented,  place  themselves  in  the  highest  rank  of  society 
always.  There  is  inherent  in  them  an  element  of  great- 
ness that  irresistibly  finds  its  noble  level.  We  see  in 
them  the  blood  of  David  and  Isaiah,  of  Abraham  and 
Solomon,  of  Joseph  and  the  Maccabees;  their  princely 
lineage  is  not  extinct.  How  odd  it  would  be  if  we  should 
have  a  Jew  to  be  President  of  the  United  States.  And 
why  not?  Mr.  Benjamin  is  a  Senator.  He  is  a  rising 
man.     He  may  one  day  hold  the  highest  office  in  the 


808  !  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH ;    OR, 

gift  of  the  nation.     Would  any  man  refuse  to  vote  for 
him  because  he  is  a  Jew  ?     But  I  am  adventuring  beyond 

my  depth — so,  good  night,  Mr. . 

Yours  truly, 

Kate. 


^ 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  309 


LETTER   XXXVIII. 

Chateau  de  Clebt. 


]\Iy  dear  Mr. 

This  will  be  the  last  letter  I  shall  write  you  from 
this  plantation,  where  I  have  been  passing  a  few  weeks 
in  the  most  agreeable  society.  Our  party  landed  here 
early  on  the  morning  after  leaving  Baton  Rouge;  for 
M.  de  Clery,  the  proprietor  of  this  noble  sugar  estate, 
is  a  relative  of  the  Colonel's,  and  the  two  gentlemen  are 
great  friends. 

But  before  I  say  any  thing  about  my  present  abode, 
let  me  describe  to  you  the  scenery  of  the  "coast"  be- 
tween Baton  Rouge  and  New  Orleans.  Present  to  your 
mind's  eye  a  moving  lake  of  dark,  oak-tinted  water, 
rolling  onward  nearly  a  broad  mile  wide,  and  winding 
league  after  league  through  an  illimitable  valley,  as  level 
as  a  billiard  table,  and  as  even  all  around  the  horizon  as 
is  the  edge  of  the  sky-meeting  ocean.  Behold  both 
banks  lined  with  wide  sugar  plantations  extending  rear- 
ward, from  a  mile  to  a  league,  green  with  the  corn-like 
leaves  of  the  young  cane,  and  bordered  in  the  rear  by 
impenetrable  forests. 

In  the  bosom  of  each  of  these  estates  you  see  a  stately 
villa,  its  chateau-like  roof  towering  above  a  grove,  and 
surrounded  by  colonnades,  which  are  hedged  in  by  orange 
and  lemon  trees,  the  rich,  golden  fruit  hanging  within 


810  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

reach  of  the  hand  from  the  drawing-room  windows.  On 
one  side  of  these  chateaux,  or  else  in  the  rear,  glitter  the 
white  walls  of  a  score  or  two  of  African  cottages,  which 
compose  the  village  of  the  slaves,  each  with  its  little 
garden  plot,  and  shaded  hy  a  roof-tree.  In  the  midst 
of  this  neat  and  pretty  Ethiopian  village,  rises  a  tower, 
on  the  summit  of  which  is  swung  a  plantation  bell,  which 
at  day  dawn  rings  up  the  slaves  to  commence  their  labor, 
rings  them  to  their  meals  through  the  day,  and  to  their 
quarters  at  night.  Not  far  from  this  negro  village, 
standing  massive  and  alone  in  the  midst  of  the  sugar 
fields,  rise  the  high  brick  walls  and  tall,  steeple-like 
chimneys  of  the  sucrSrie,  or  sugar-house,  where  the  cane 
is  ground  up,  and  goes  through  its  various  processes, 
from  gross  molasses  to  the  purest  white  crystalization. 
Some  of  these  sucr^ries  are  of  great  size,  looking  like 
universities,  or  some  public  edifice ;  and  they  cost  so  much, 
that,  with  the  other  expense  of  establishing  a  sugar 
estate,  it  is  common  to  say  that  a  "man  must  be  a  rich 
cotton  planter  before  he  can  commence  as  a  poor  sugar 
planter,"  the  expense  of  starting  a  cotton  plantation 
being  very  small  compared  with  that  for  the  latter ;  but 
the  sugar  planter  has  the  advantage  of  striding  on  to 
opulence  in  proportion  to  his  outlay. 

This  description  which  I  have  given  of  a  sugar  estate, 
with  its  vast,  level  fields,  like  emerald  plains,  its  stately 
sucr^rie,  its  snow-white  negro  village,  its  elegant  cha- 
teau half  buried  in  trees,  will  answer  for  that  of  the 
hundreds  that  continuously  line  the  two  shores  of  the 
Mississippi,  between  Baton  Rouge  and  New  Orleans. 
The  steamer,  therefore,  as  she  moves  down,  seems  as  if 
passing  through  a  majestic  canal,  with  a  street  of  villas 


THE   SOUTHERNER  AT   HOME.  311 

on  either  shore.  A  few  yards  from  the  water  runs  a 
beautiful  road,  level  and  smooth,  bordered  on  one  side 
by  gardens  and  houses,  and  on  the  other  by  the  river. 
This  road  is  always  enlivened  by  carriages,  horsemen, 
or  foot-passengers ;  for  the  whole  line  of  shore,  for  the 
one  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  is  a  continued  unbroken 
street.  When  our  steamer  ran  near  one  shore  or  the 
other,  we  could  look  in  upon  the  inmates  of  the  houses, 
and  see  them  at  their  meals,  and  as  we  sailed  past  by  moon- 
light, the  voice  of  song,  the  thrum  of  the  guitar,  or  the 
Boft  cadence  of  the  flute,  would  float  ofi"  to  us  from  the 
piazzas  or  lawns,  or  some  bower  buried  in  the  shadows 
of  the  garden.  The  atmosphere  was  laden  with  the  fra- 
grance of  flowers,  and  the  mocking-bird's  joyous  and 
varied  melody  filled  the  branches,  to  our  imagination, 
with  a  whole  aviary  of  singing  birds.  Ah,  it  was  per- 
fect enchantment,  Mr. ,  sailing  through  these  lovely 

scenes  beneath  the  broad  shield  of  the  moon  casting  its 
radiance  of  burnished  silver  over  all.  The  very  river, 
usually  in  its  mildest  mood,  champing  and  growling  like 
a  chained  lion,  flowed  almost  unruffled,  like  a  moving 
glass  surface,  mirroring  the  light  with  dazzling  brilliancy. 
Below  us,  and  above  us,  the  red  and  green  signal  lights 
of  other  boats,  ascending  and  descending,  added  to  the 
changing  beauty  of  all,  while  the  bright  flames  kept 
burning  all  night  at  the  wood  stations,  along  the  shores, 
casting  their  long,  blood-red  columns  far  along  the  sur- 
face of  the  stream,  added  a  certain  wildness  to  the  gene- 
ral features  of  the  whole. 

I  remained  on  deck  to  a  late  hour,  wrapped  well  in 
my  shawl,  to  guard  against  the  dews,  and  enjoyed  the 
novelty  of  the  time  and  place,  with  emotions  that  were 


312  THE  SUNNY  south;  ok, 

new  and  delightful.  Occasionally  the  sombre  tower  of 
a  Roman  chapel,  or  the  gray  walls  of  a  convent,  (for  we 
were  passing  through  the  heart  of  a  Roman  Catholic 
population,)  came  into  view.  One  called  the  Convent 
of  the  Sacred  Heart,  "Le  Sacre  Coeur,"  was  one  of  the 
most  lovely  objects  I  ever  beheld,  lighted  up  as  its  long 
corridors  were  by  moonlight,  casting  half  its  front  alter- 
nately into  light  and  shade. 

This,  I  am  told,  is  a  remarkably  good  school  of  educa- 
tion, and  many  of  the  "first  families"  in  the  South  have 
their  daughters  educated  there,  or  at  the  Ursuline  Con- 
vent in  New  Orleans — Convent  des  Ursulines. 

There  is  no  doubt,  Mr. ,  that  these  Roman  Ca- 
tholic schools  for  girls  are  among  the  best  we  have.  I 
have  seen,  in  the  South,  several  estimable  ladies  who 
were  educated  at  this  Convent,  and  certainly  I  never 
met  with  more  intelligent,  well-informed,  interesting 
persons,  more  thoroughly  accomplished  ladies. 

"Ah,  yes,"  you  say  objectingly,  "but  they  are  in 
danger  of  becoming  Roman  Catholics." 

Of  these  ladies  but  one  is  a  Roman  Catholic,  and  she 
is  not  very  strongly  grounded  in  that  faith,  usually 
attending  the  Episcopal  church  with  her  husband,  and 
bringing  up  her  children  in  this  church.  The  danger, 
if  girls  are  well  instructed  first  at  home,  is  very  slight 
of  their  being  won  over  to  the  Roman  faith  in  these 
schools.  There  is  a  certain  romantic  fascination  con- 
nected with  this  religion,  Avhich,  for  a  time,  has  its  influ- 
ence on  an  imaginative  temperament,  but  it  soon  wears  off. 
I  know  and  love  an  interesting  lady,  who,  from  her  thir- 
teenth to  her  seventeenth  year,  was  a  pupil  at  the  Ursu- 
line Convent.    She  came  out  a  romantic  Roman  Catholic, 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  313 

but  is  now  a  communicant  of  the  Presbyterian  church. 
She  says  she  "  dearly  loved  the  kind  good  nuns ;  that 
they  were  gentle  and  devoted,  and  she  used  to  love  to 
sit  up  with  one  old  nun,  Ursula,  at  her  vigils,  about 
Christmas  times,  and  listen  to  her  tales  of  wonderful 
miracles  performed  by  saints  and  the  Blessed  Virgin ;  in 
all  of  which  good  dame  Ursula  had  faith.  She  stoutly 
and  piously  believed  "  how  the  Virgin  once  came  down 
and  touched  her  cheek  with  her  finger,  and  cured  her 
toothache;"  how  St.  Ursula,  their  patroness,  pinched 
one  of  the  sisters  on  the  arm  for  sleeping  at  her  post, 
so  that  the  mark,  in  the  shape  of  a  cross,  remained  there 
at  this  hour ;  how  she  had  seen  the  blood  from  the  hands 
of  the  picture  of  Christ  crucified,  over  the  altar,  and 
fall  in  great  drops  to  the  floor,  and  one  of  these  drops, 
which  she  caught  on  her  'kerchief,  she  showed  me,  first 
crossing  herself  and  me  with  the  signs  of  the  cross  made 
backwards  and  forwards  !  But  the  story  that  most  cap- 
tivated me  was  how  (as  she  was  watching  before  the  altar 
one  Good  Friday  eve)  she  saw  the  infant  boy  Jesus  leave 
the  arms  of  his  blessed  mother,  there  in  the  picture,  and 
fly  with  golden  wings  to  the  great  picture  of  Christ  cru- 
cified, on  the  right  of  the  altar,  and,  with  tears,  wipe 
the  blood  from  His  hands,  and  feet,  and  side,  and  tried 
to  stop  its  flowing,  with  many  lamentations  !  All  this," 
added  the  intelligent  lady,  "  I  firmly  believed,  but  they 
produced  upon  me  no  religious  impression ;  I  listened 
to  them  just  as  I  read  Mrs.  Radclifie's  horrible  tales  of 
dungeons  and  bleeding  nuns.  Our  education  was  not 
committed  to  this  good,  credulous  dame,  do  not  suppose, 
but  there  were  ladies  in  the  Convent  of  the  most  elegant 
manners,   of  the  most   accurate  education,  and  minds 


8141  THE  SUNNY  south;  or, 

every  way  accomplished ;  ladies  of  rank,  who  had  left 
the  brilliant  society  of  European  cities  to  devote  them- 
selves to  heaven.     My  chief  teacher  was  Sister  Therdse, 

who  had  been  in  France  the  Countess  de ,  and  who 

is  said  to  have  loved  Napoleon,  the  King  of  Rome,  and 
at  his  death  had  retired  from  the  world.  All  the  nuns 
were  French  ladies." 

When  I  asked  this  lady  if  she  still  felt  attached  to  the 
nuns,  she  answered,  "  Oh,  yes ;  I  never  visit  New  Orleans 
that  I  do  not  go  and  see  them  and  they  receive  me  in  the 
most  affectionate  manner  !  If  I  should  ever  meet  with  a 
reverse  of  fortune,  and  lose  my  husband  and  child,  I 
should,  I  have  no  doubt,  seek  the  calm  repose  and  holy 
shelter  of  that  home  of  my  childhood ;  for,  when  I  left 
them,  the  Superior  said,  as  she  wept  on  my  shoulder, 
"Daughter,  if  the  world  is  adverse  to  thee,  remember 
thou  hast  here  always  a  shelter  from  its  storms." 

I  am  not  advocating,  Mr. ,  the  habit  of  educating 

Protestant  girls  in  Roman  nunneries ;  all  I  can  say  in 
their  favor  is,  that  they  do  bestow  thorough  educations 
upon  their  pupils ;  and  if  the  Roman  Catholics  would 
only  give  up  their  wicked  additions  to  Christianity,  their 
worship  of  Mary,  their  prayers  to  Peter  and  Paul,  their 
confessional,  their  idolatry  of  the  mass,  their  merchan- 
dize of  sins,  and  their  other  excrescences,  which  they 
have  heaped  upon  the  Gospel,  till  it  is  almost  lost  sight 
of,  they  would  be  the  best  teachers  of  youth  in  the  world. 
But  holding  on  to  these  errors,  they  will  ahvays  keep  at 
a  distance  the  many  who  would  patronize  them. 

The  Episcopalians  are  now  taking  the  place  once  so 
prominently  occupied  by  the  Roman  Catholics,  as  teachers 
of  youth  J  and  the  female  schools  kept  by  Episcopal 


THE   SOUTUERNER   AT   HOME.  315 

clergymen,  are  acknowledged,  even  by  other  denomina- 
tions, to  be  the  best  schools  in  the  United  States. 

I  forgot  to  say  that  my  intelligent  friend  informed  me, 
that  good  old  Aunt  Ursula  always  knelt  down  with  the 
soles  of  her  bare  feet  turned  up  to  the  fire,  when  she 
said  her  prayers,  in  order  that  they  might,  while  she  was 
praying  and  telling  her  beads,  get  nice  and  warm  before 
she  jumped  into  bed.  I  have  heard  that  "  prayers  and 
provender  hinder  no  man's  journey  ;"  but  Aunt  Ursula 
knew  that  to  say  one's  prayers,  and  warm  one's  toes  the 
whilst,  hindered  not  a  holy  nun's  devotions. 

Yours  respectfully, 

Kate. 


SM  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 


LETTER    XXXIX. 

HATEAU   DE    ClERY,  La. 


My  Dear  Mr. : 

As  these  letters  have  been  mainly  descriptive  of 
scenes  and  voyaging  before  I  reached  here,  this  will  be 
mainly  descriptive  of  the  scenery  at  the  Chateau.  It  will 
give  you  some  idea  of  the  domestic  arrangements  of  the 
opulent  French  planters,  than  which  nothing  can  be  more 
agreeable.  No  people  know  so  well  how  to  enjoy  this 
world  as  the  French  ;  and  par  excellence  their  descend- 
ants in  Louisiana,  which  offers  to  their  pleasure  the  cli- 
mate of  Eden  with  all  its  fruits, — with  the  "  tree  of 
knowledge  of  good  and  evil,"  I  fear;  for  with  much 
luxury,  there  is  much  evil  in  the  world ;  and,  unfortun- 
ately, one  cannot  live  magnificently,  indulging  all  the 
goods  of  the  earth,  without  "  sin." 

"Luxury  and  sin 
In  Eden  did  begin." 

The  Chateau  de  Clery,  where  Talleyrand,  Louis  Phil- 
lippe,  and  Jackson  have  been  guests,  is  a  large,  imposing, 
French-looking  mansion,  with  almost  an  acre  of  roof, 
situated  on  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi,  and  embowered 
in  a  grove  of  magnolia  trees,  interspersed  with  live-oaks 
and  orange  trees.  The  house  is  vast  in  width,  and  made 
very  long,  with  piazzaed  wings,  and  all  around  it  runs  a 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  817 

broad  colonnade  supported  by  columns  entwined  by  flow- 
ering plants. 

The  view  from  the  upper  balcony,  on  which  all  the 
parlors  open  by  Venetian  windows,  is  very  beautiful,  and 
to  the  eye  of  a  person  born  in  sight  of  mountains,  novel 
in  the  extreme.  There  extend  to  the  right  and  left,  as 
far  as  the  eye  can  see,  level  sugar-fields,  waving  at  this 
season  with  the  green  billows  of  the  breeze-tossed  cane- 
leaves.  The  appearance  of  a  cane-field  in  this  month 
being  very  similar  to  that  of  a  field  of  corn  in  the  green 
leaf,  before  it  begins  to  display  its  tassels.  Turning  the 
gaze  from  the  vast  savannahs  of  Southern  wealth,  the 
lawn  in  front  of  the  villa  fills  the  eye  with  its  shady, 
live-oak  trees,  its  groves  of  orange  trees,  and  long  aisles 
of  lemon  and  magnolias.  Erom  the  broad  steps  of  the 
entrance  to  the  portico  to  the  river  side  extends  a  noble 
carriage-way,  bordered  on  each  side  by  live-oaks.  A 
fringe  of  orange  trees  runs  all  around  a  magnificent  gar- 
den on  the  left,  but  the  severe  frosts  of  last  winter 
have  rendered  them  leafless  ;  and  there  they  stand,  gray 
and  fruitless,  wholly  destitute  of  foliage,  striking  contrasts 
to  the  rich  vegetation  everywhere  visible  around  them. 
The  majestic  Mississippi  flows  past  in  front  of  the  lawn 
a  furlong  distant,  and  confined  to  its  banks  by  the  green 
levee,  inside  of  which  runs  smoothly  the  carriage-road 
down  to  New  Orleans,  and  along  which  horsemen  or  car- 
riages are  constantly  passing  up  and  down.  There  is 
scarcely  an  hour  in  the  day  in  which  a  steamer  is  not 
visible,  ploughing  its  huge  path  along,  with  the  deep  roar 
of  its  escape-pipes  and  comet-like  trails  of  black  smoke 
rolling  along  the  air  astern,  darkening  the  waves  beneath, 
like  the  passing  thunder-cloud.     The  opposite  shore  a 


318  '-?  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH ;   OR, 

mile  off,  is  visible,  with  its  pretty  villas,  its  groves  and  j 
parks,  and  its  African  villages  white  as  snow,  and  the  | 
imposing  turreted  sugar-houses  beyond,  with  their  tall  j 
towers.  I 

I  am  perfectly  charmed  with  the  scenery  of  this  region.  I 
Once  I  fancied  that  no  landscape  could  be  pretty  with-  I 
out  hills  or  mountains  in  the  distance ;  but  the  beautiful  | 
shores  of  Louisiana  have  led  me  to  change  my  opinion ;    ; 
and,  although  I  was  born  in  sight  of  the  White  Hills,  I  » 
can  see  much  to  admire  in  the  richness  of  these  scenes, 
where  there  is  not  an  eminence  of  any  sort — not  a  mole 
hill.     All  is  one  vast  ocean-like  level ;  but  so  diversified  | 
by  cultivation,  so  ornamented  by  taste  and  art,  so  decked  I 
with  noble  seats,  so  enriched  by  groves,  gardens,  fine  | 
roads,  and  avenues,  so  variegated  by  the  countless  world  » 
of  flowers,  and  the  splendor  of  the  foliage,  and  graceful- 
ness of  the  forms  of  the  forest  trees,  its  atmosphere  so 
colored  by  the  purity  of  the  azure  and  golden  heavens 
of  morning  and  evening,  with  the  ever  changing  glory  I 
of  the  moving  river,  that  I  forget  the  absence  of  moun-  f 
tains,  and  give  my  heart  up  to  the  full  enjoyment  of  the 
paradise  around  me. 

You  will  never  behold  the  finest  portion  of  the  Union,  j 

Mr. ,  until  you  have  visited  the  "coast  of  Sunny   ' 

Louisiana."  The  people,  too,  whose  lot  is  cast  in  the 
midst  of  this  mighty  Eden  of  a  hundred  miles  in  extent, 
can  appreciate  the  charms  of  their  scenery.  Vast  wealth 
has  begotten  education  and  taste;  and  refinement,  and 
mental  accomplishments  adorn  most  of  the  elegant  man- 
sions that  border  the  river. 

There  are  seventeen  rooms  in  the  Chateau  de  Clery, 
most  of  them  of  a  magnificent  description.     There  are 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  St9 

two  parlors,  a  large  drawing-room,  a  vast  hall,  larger 
than  any  room  in  the  house,  and  which  is  the  general 
rendezvous  of  the  fatuily  after  dinner  and  tea ;  a  sitting 
room  for  the  ladies;  a  nursery,  several  bath  rooms,  a 
library,  and  a  study  room  near  it,  for  the  governess  and 
children;  besides  numerous  bed-rooms  and  dressing- 
rooms.  These  rooms,  the  parlors  and  all,  open  out  into 
the  piazza,  which  encircles  the  whole  mansion.  They 
are  all  upon  one  floor,  and  every  window  is  a  glass  door, 
opening  with  leaves.  The  whole  edifice  is  raised  ten 
feet  from  the  ground,  on  brick  pillars,  leaving  beneath 
the  pile  numerous  servants  and  store-rooms,  concealed 
from  the  eye  of  persons  approaching  the  house  by  a  lat- 
tice-work, covering  the  whole  front  of  the  lower  area. 

The  house  is  stuccoed,  and  tinted  lemon  color,  while 
the  numerous  columns  are  painted  white,  and  being 
usually  enwreathed  by  vines,  the  whole  effect  is  very 
fine.  Carriage  ways,  strewn  with  shells,  surround  the 
mansion,  and  terminate  at  the  stables — which  are  hand- 
some edifices,  beneath  the  shade  of  two  enormous  live- 
oaks.  From  the  rear  of  the  gallery  is  visible  the  snowy 
houses  of  the  African  village,  sixty-eight  in  number, 
forming  a  long  street,  bordered  by  trees,  with  a  small 
garden  in  the  rear  of  each  dwelling.  In  the  centre  of 
this  picturesque  village,  every  house  in  which  is  the  ex- 
act pattern  of  the  other,  rises  the  taller  roof  of  the  over- 
seer's mansion,  above  which  still  rises  the  tower  of  the 
plantation  bell,  which  peals  out  many  times  a  day  to  call 
to  work  and  to  meals. 

Beyond  this  attractive  village  for  slaves,  where  neat- 
ness and  comfort  prevail,  rise  the  tall  walls  of  the  suc- 
r^rie,  or  sugar  house,  half  a  mile  off,  towards  the  centre 


320  THE    SUNNY    SOUTH;    OR, 

of  the  estate.     It  has  the  aspect  of  a  huge  manufactor  j.-r 
It  is  two  hundred  feet  long,  has  three  vast  chimneya/- 
one  of  which  is  seventy  feet  in  height,  and  twenty  feet 
broad  at  the  base.     The  whole  structure  is  white,  and 
looks  from  the  house,  as  Isabel  describes  it,  like  some- 
handsome  convent.     From  the  villa,  a  smooth  road  (of 
course  level  as  a  floor)  runs  to  it,  and  indeed,  passing  it, 
extends  to  the  cypress  forest  two  miles  beyond  it.     This 
road  is  lined  with  hedges  of  the  flowering  Cherokee  rose, 
and  is  our  favorite  morning  gallop,  as  the  Levee  road, 
along  the  banks  of  the  Father  of  Waters,  is  our  favorite 
evening  drive.  . — -- ■• 

To-morrow  we  leave  this  lovely  place  for  the  city ;  and 

I  will  tell  you  a  secret,  Mr.  ,  which  you  mustn't 

breathe  for  the  world.     The  eldest  son  of  M.  De  Clery, ;  I 
who  has  only  last  year  returned  from  Paris,  has  fallen 
in  love  with  Isabel,  and  they  are  to  be  married.     We  go  !  j 
to  the  city  to  select  the  bridal  apparel  and  gifts,  &c. 

The  young  gentleman  is  extremely  handsome,  foup*n 
and-twenty  years  old,  with  a  cultivated  mind,  and  a  good''"/ 
heart,  and  unexceptionable  temper.     This  last  qualifica« 
tion  is  the  most  important.     If  a  husband  is  not  amiable, 
dear  me!  what  a  wretched  woman  his  bride  must  be! 
Girls  should  see  if  their  suitor  is  good  tempered,  and  if 
he  is  not,  have  nothing  to  say  to  him.     If  a  man  is  bad 
tempered  to  his  sister  or  mother,  be  sure  he  will  be  still 
more  so  to  his  wife,  because  his  wife  is  more  completely 
in  his  power.     As  a  young  man  treats  his  mother  and 
his  sister,  he  will  treat  his  wife.     Young  ladies!  take 
this  as  an  unfailing  test,  from  your  friend,  Kate. 

M.  de  Clery  has  a  fine  temper ;  and  as  he  is  also  very 
rich,  and  a  sincere  believer  in  Christianity,  Isabel  will 


TUB   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  321 

make  a  good  match,  and  doubtless  be  very  happy  in  the 
dangerous  lottery  of  matrimony.  But  I  am  in  tears  as 
I  write,  at  the  thought  of  losing  her;  and  the  dear 
colonel  looks  through  tearful  eyes  upon  her,  and  kissing 
her,  bids  "  God's  blessing  on  her."  It  is  a  hard  struggle 
for  the  father,  though  he  desires  the  union. 

The  marriage  of  Isabel  will  change  all  our  plans  for 
the  summer.  The  whole  wedding  party  will  proceed, 
soon  after  the  nuptials,  to  the  North,  and  the  bridegroom 
and  bride  will  embark  for  Europe.  You  ask  what  will 
become  of  me?  A  very  sensible  question,  good  Mr. 
.  With  Isabel's  engagement  yesterday,  my  voca- 
tion as  governess  went.  The  future  is  all  before  me 
where  to  choose.  But  the  question  of  the  future  remains 
to  be  settled  after  we  return  from  the  city,  where,  as  I 
said,  we  go  to-morrow,  to  be  absent  a  week.  It  is  pro- 
bable I  shall  accompany  the  bridal  party  North,  and 
take  tlie  opportunity  of  visiting  the  humble  home  of  my 
childhood,  amid  the  green  hills  of  New  England — for, 
with  all  my  attachment  to  the  South,  and  the  warm- 
hearted Southern  people,  my  heart, 

"  Dear  New  England,  turns  ever  to  thee." 

P.  S.  My  next  letter  will  be  from  New  Orleans,  from 
which  I  hope  to  write  you  something  interesting. 
2]  Kate. 


322  THE  SUNNY  south;  or, 


LETTER    XL. 

New  Orleans,  La. 


My  Dear  Mr. : 

This  is  the  first  moment  whicli  I  can  call  "my 
own,"  since  I  arrived  in  this  splendid  bedlam  of  a  city, 
the  diurnal  roar  of  which,  although  it  is  nearly  eleven 
o'clock  at  night,   has  not  yet  ceased.     Carriages  are 
swiftly  rattling  past,  over  the  rocky  streets,  taking  thea- 
tre and  party-goers  home;  the  night-policeman's  staff 
echoes  hollowly  on  the  banquette,  as  he  signalizes  to  his 
fellow-guardians  of  the  city ;  the  wild  song  of  a  group  of 
bacchanals  swells  not  unmusically  up  into  the  air,  and  J 
penetrates  my  open  window ;  while  from  an   opposite 
drawing-room   comes   the  rich   soprano  voice  of  some  i 
maiden  singing  at  the  piano — perhaps  to  a  late-lingering  ,  j 
lover.  ! 

Fatigued  with  the  sweet  excitement  of  the   day  in  1 
choosing  her  bridal  attire,  Isabel  sleeps  softly  within  the  If 
snowy  folds  of  the  lace  musquito  bar  (which  guards  every  j 
bed  in  this  climate) ;  and  as  excitement  always  renders 
me  wakeful,  I  embrace  the  hour  till  midnight  to  give  you  s 
some  idea  of  this  great  city  of  the  South — this  magnifi-  ' 
ficent  key  of  the  Mississippi,  which  stands,  as  Constanti- 
nople at  the  entrance  of  the  Bosphorus,  the  gate  of  a  [ 
commercial  interior,  the  value  of  which  "no  man  can 
number." 


THE   SOUTHERNER. AT   HOME.'  323 

In  my  last  letter,  dated  at  the  sugar  estate  of  M.  do 
Clery,  I  briefly  stated  the  happy  engagement  of  my  dear 
pupil  Isabel  to  young  Isdiore,  his  son,  and  that  we  were 
to  come  to  the  city  to  make  preparations  for  the  wed- 
ding. 

At  first  it  was  determined  that  we  should  go  down  in 
one  of  the  handsome  packets  that  daily  descend  the 
river;  but  it  was  finally  decided  that  we  should  take  the 
carriages,  and  drive  down  by  the  Levee  road,  the  dis- 
tance being  easily  accomplished  in  two  or  three  hours. 
At  six  o'clock  in  the  morning,  therefore,  the  horses  were 
at  the  door,  and  as  we  had  breakfast  early,  in  order  to 
take  advantage  of  the  cool  air  of  the  early  day,  we  were 
soon  on  our  way,  rolling  smoothly  along  over  one  of  the 
most  delightful  of  roads. 

,  I  have  already  mentioned  the  novelty  and  beauty  of 
both  of  the  green  shores  of  the  Mississippi, — how  a  ver- 
i  dant  embankment  five  feet  high  borders  each  side,  to 
prevent  overflows;  and  how  within  this  embankment  is 
the  river-road,  following  in  and  out  every  curve  of  the 
embanked  shore,  and  level  as  a  race-course  track.  Thus, 
one  riding  along  this  road  has  constantly  the  green 
bank,  or  Levee,  on'  one  side,  with  the  mile-wide  river 
flowing  majestically  by,  bearing  huge  steamers  past  on 
its  tawny  bosom.  On  the  other  hand  are  hedges  sepa- 
rating gardens,  lawns,  cottages,  villas,  and  emerald  cane- 
fields,  with  groups  of  live-oaks,  magnolias,  lemon,  and 
banana  trees  interspersed.  For  miles,  all  the  day  long, 
the  traveler  can  ride  through  a  scene  of  beauty  and  ever 
lively  interest.  At  no  moment  is  he  out  of  sight  of  the 
water,  with  its  moving  fleets,  and  the  opposite  shore 
beautiful  with  residences,  groves,  and  gardens;  at  no  mo- 


324  •      THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

ment  is  he  not  passing  the  tasteful  ahode  and  grounds 
of  some  planter,  bordering  the  road-side. 

If  this  drive  is  so  attractive  to  one  ou  the  land, 
what  must  the  scenery  appear  to  the  eyes  of  the  passen- 
gers on  steamers  sailing  from  sunrise  to  sunset  through 
it  ?  But  I  cannot  attempt  to  convey  to  you  a  just  con- 
ception of  these  gorgeous  river  coasts  of  Louisiana.  It 
is  not  the  charming  landscape  alone  that  lends  them 
their  attraction  to  a  northern  eye,  but  the  delicious 
climate,  which  bathes  every  thing,  and  in  which  every 
object  seems  to  float. 

You  may  judge  that  our  ride  towards  the  city  was 
greatly  enjoyed  by  me.  I  could  not  help,  at  the  time, 
feeling  a  sensation  of  awe  steal  over  me,  as  I  looked  from 
the  carriage  window  and  saw  the  level  of  the  river  highet 
than  we  were ;  for  we  had  to  rise  up  in  the  carriage  as 
we  rode  along  to  overlook  the  Levee,  when  we  could 
see  that  the  river  was  within  a  foot  even  with  it  on. 
the  outer  side,  while  the  road  over  Avhich  our  wheels 
rolled  was  four  feet  lower  than  its  surface  on  the  inner, 
side;  in  a  word,  we  were  riding  with  a  wall  of  water, 
kept  from  overwhelming  us,  and  the  fields,  villas,  and 
whole  country,  only  by  the  interposing  bank  of  the  Le- 
vee, from  four  to  six  feet  in  height,  and  yet  this  guard 
of  heaped  earth  was  for  hundreds  of  leagues  enough  to 
confine  the  monarch  of  waters  within  his  bounds,  so  that 
the  people  dwelt  in  security  upon  his  borders. 

There  are,  however,  times  of  terror,  when  the  vast 
river,  swelling  to  unwonted  height,  presses  with  irresis- 
tible power  against  some  weaker  part  of  this  barrier, 
and  forces  a  passage  into  the  road  beneath.  At  first, 
the  breach  may  not  be  lai'ger  than  a  stream  of  water 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT  HOME.  325 

from  a  hose,  and  can  easily  be  stopped  with  cotton-bales, 
or  bags  of  earth,  if  at  once  applied.  But  when  at  night 
one  of  these  crevices  (which  they  call  here  "  crevasses," 
when  they  become  large)  begins  to  form  unseen  by  any 
watchful  eye,  it  rapidly  enlarges,  till  what  at  first  could 
have  been  stopped  by  a  schoolboy's  dam,  in  half  an  hour 
becomes  strong  enough  to  turn  a  wheel,  and  in  an  hour 
plunges  a  roaring  cataract  twenty  yards  wide,  rushing 
like  a  mill-race,  and  deluging  road,  gardens,  fields,  and 
pastures.  The  thunder  of  its  fall,  at  length,  awakes  the 
planter  or  his  sleepy  slaves  ;  the  alarm-bell  is  rung  out, 
as  if  for  fire,  and  the  whole  coast  is  soon  awake  and  alive. 

One  plantation  bell  after  another  takes  up  the  note 
of  terror,  and  for  miles  is  heard  their  afirighted  clamor, 
accompanied  by  the  shouts  of  hundreds  of  slaves,  hasten- 
ing from  all  quarters  to  the  scene  of  danger;  for  the 
peril  of  a  crevasse  is  a  common  peril  to  all,  for  only  stop- 
ping the  incipient  Niagara  can  save  the  whole  region 
down  to  the  Gulf,  for  a  thousand  square  miles,  from 
overflowing  and  ruinous  devastation. 

The  scene  at  the  stopping  of  a  crevasse  is  only  equalled 
by  that  at  putting  out  a  conflagration.  The  constant 
arrival,  spurring  at  mad  speed,  of  planters,  followed  by 
gangs  of  half-naked  Africans,  armed  with  spades  and 
gunny-bags  filled  with  dirt,  the  loud  commands,  the  louder 
response,  the  tramp  of  hoofs  and  of  men's  feet,  the 
darkness  of  the  night,  the  glare  of  torches,  and  the  roar 
of  the  ceaselessly  plunging  and  enlarging  torrent,  as 
described  to  me  by  Isidore  de  Clery,  must  be  both  su- 
blime and  fearful.  Imagine  the  reservoir  on  Fairmount 
to  burst  its  sides  some  fine  night,  and  the  scenes  that 
would  follow  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  path  its  wild 


826  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

■waters  would  make,  in  the  efforts  of  the  people  to  stop 
them,  and  you  will  be  able  to  form  some  picture  in  your 
mind  of  a  crevasse,  and  its  destructive  effects  in  the  level  j 
country  of  Louisiana.  ij 

Not  long  ago  a  crevasse  opened  in  the  Levee  not  far  |i 
from  New  Orleans,  and  became  so  alarming  that  steamers,  Jj 
laden  with  hundreds  of  men,  sailed  from  the  city  for  the  | 
place,  and  it  was  not  finally  stopped  until  fifty  leagues  J 
square  of  the  richest  portion  of  the  country  had  become  I 
submerged,  and  a  hundred  sugar  planters  ruined. 

Nevertheless,  in  the  face  of  all  these  facts,  we  rode 
calmly  and  securely  on,  with  the  river  wall  four  feet 
higher  than  our  road,  thinking  of  any  thing  but  ere-  i 
vasses,  and  enjoying  the  scenery  that  was  ever  changing  | 
its  features,  and  increasing  in  beauty  at  every  change.     M 

Our  cortege  consisted  of  two  carriages,  in  one  of  which  ;] 
rode  the  colonel,  Isabel,  and  the  senior  M.  de  Clery,  and 
Mademoiselle  Marie  Victoire  La  Blanche,  his  niece,  a 
beautiful,  olive-cheeked,  dark-eyed  Louisianaise,  who  was 
to  be  one  of  Isabel's  bridesmaids.  In  another  carriage, 
which  was  an  open  phseton,  was  Isidore,  the  happy  and 
handsome  affiancd  and  Miss  Conyngham.  Why  they 
placed  this  young  gentleman  under  my  charge,  separat- 
ing him  for  the  drive  from  Isabel,  I  can't  tell ;  unless  it 
was  a  pretty  piece  of  tyranny,  allowable,  perhaps.  At 
any  rate,  it  was  the  plan  of  M.  de  Clery,  the  senior,  who 
said,  "  The  young  folks  will  be  enough  in  each  other's 
society  after  they  are  married,  so  let  them  ride  in  differ- 
ent carriages  now.  Miss  Kate  will  be  so  kind  as  to  keep 
the  young  gentleman  in  proper  decorum." 

Dear  me !    I — a  young,  giddy  girl  of  twenty  scarcely, 
to  be  selected  by  two  gray-headed  gentlemen — to  be  the 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  B27 

guardian  of  a  young  gentleman  of  three-and-twenty,  as 
handsome  as  Adonis !  So,  what  with  answering  Isidore's 
hundred  and  one  questions,  all  about  what  I  knew  of 
Isabel  ever  since  I  had  known  her,  and  looking  at  the 
scenery,  I  was  kept  very  busy, — for  the  scenery  con- 
stantly challenged  my  attention,  and  the  lover  would 
constantly  talk  of  Belle.  By  the  time  we  reached  the 
city  I  was  half  in  love  with  him  myself;  and  I  then  re- 
collected how  that  Isabel  had  said  to  me,  smilingly,  when 
I  was  seated  in  the  carriage, 

"Take  care  of  your  heart  dear  Kate!" 

But  I  hear  an  awful  clamor  throughout  the  city  that 
compels  me  to  stop.  A  deep-mouthed  tocsin  is  ringing 
out  "Fire!  fire!  fire!"  as  plain  as  a  human  voice  could 
utter  it ;  and  a  score  of  lesser  bells  reply,  even  as  a  huge 
ban-dog,  alarmed  in  the  night  by  a  prowling  burglar, 
opens  his  deep-mouthed  bay,  while  Tray,  Blanche,  and 
Sweetheart,  and  all  the  little  dogs,  in  every  key,  chime 
in,  in  confused,  discordant  uproar ;  so  are  all  the  bells 
of  the  city  clamoring,  and  the  streets,  which  had  begun 
to  sink  into  midnight  quiet,  are  once  more  thundering 
with  the  artillery-like  wheels  of  engines,  hastening,  amid 
a  Babel  of  voices,  to  the  scene  of  conflagration,  the  light 
of  which,  reflected  from  an  opposite  tower,  already  glares 
redly  and  balefully  into  my  window. 

I  will  now  say  "Good  Night,"  but  not  without  a 
heartfelt  prayer  for  those  who  shall  be  made  houseless 
and  destitute  by  this  fire,  which  rages  more  and  more 
terribly,  lighting  up  all  the  city  roofs  like  a  burning 
crater. 

Yours, 
K.  C. 


328  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OB, 


LETTER    XLI. 

New  Oblbans,  La. 


My  Dear  Mr. : 

The  impressions  which  are  made  upon  one's  mind 
and  memory  on  first  going  into  a  large  city,  are  indel' 
lible.  I  shall  never  forget  mine  on  approaching  the  city 
in  our  carriage,  about  three  hours  after  leaving  Chateau 
de  Clery. 

New  Orleans  is  wholly  unlike  any  other  American 
metropolis.  Its  aspect  is  foreign,  and  French  decidedly. 
When  within  six  miles,  we  entered  the  pretty  suburbs  of 
Carrolton,  where  the  road  is  a  continuous  street  until 
lost  in  the  labyrinth  of  the  city  avenues. 

Instead  of  continuing  along  this  road  we  alighted  at 
the  railway  depot,  leaving  our  carriages  to  return  home 
with  the  coachmen,  our  intention  being  to  go  back  by 
the  river.  The  cars  run  to  the  city  every  half  hour,  and 
our  party  had  no  sooner  got  seated  than  we  were  off  like 
an  eagle  shrieking  as  he  flies.  Oh,  what  dreadful  noises 
those  horrid  steam  whistles  make !  So  shrill  and  loud 
and  terrific,  that  I  did  not  wonder  to  see  cows,  horses, 
mules,  dogs,  ducks,  geese,  and  chickens  turn,  scamper, 
fly,  trot,  gallop,  and  scatter  to  the  right  and  left  in  con^ 
sternation. 

There  were  three  Indians  in  the  next  car,  one  of 
whom,  in  an  old  scarlet  frock  coat,  fancifully  fringed, 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  329 

placed  his  hands  to  his  mouth  in  rapid  succession,  and 
echoed  the  cry  of  the  engine  whistle  almost  as  shrilly. 
We  all  looked  into  the  car  to  see  what  it  was.  He  stood 
up  and  repeated  the  cry,  saying  with  an  air  of  tipsy 
satisfaction — 

"War-whoop !  Me  war-whoop — he  war-whoop." 
What  more  he  might  have  said  was  abruptly  cut  off 
by  the  conductor  pushing  him  by  the  shoulder,  and 
thrusting  him  with  a  huge  oath  roughly  into  a  car  still 
farther  forward ;  and  driving  two  patient-looking  Indian 
women  laden  with  baskets  after  him.  Ah,  for  the  poor 
Indian ! 

"  Like  April  snows  in  the  warm  noon, 
He  melts  away !     Where  once  he  trod, 
Lord  of  the  earth  and  free  as  air, 
He  now  creeps  cowering  like  a  cur, 
Scorned,  whipped,  spit  upon,  abused, 
Cursed  of  the  white  man,  and  not  where 
To  lay  his  head  where  once  he  reigned  a  king." 

The  Indian  is  every  where  the  same  from  Maine  to 
Louisiana.  They  look  alike,  their  pursuits  are  alike, 
their  degradation  equal.  These  were  wandering  rem- 
nants of  the  Choctaw  tribe ;  for  many  linger  about  the 
scenes  of  their  father's  deeds  and  resting  places  of  their 
bones,  and  support  their  precarious  existence  by  fishing 
and  basket-making.  I  have  seen  many  of  them  in  the 
city  since,  going  about  selling  little  bundles  of  sassafras 
root  or  herbs  gathered  in  the  woods.  The  women  never 
smile,  look  sickly  and  suffering ;  while  the  men  are  gaily 
dressed  and  keep  in  a  state  of  lordly  drunkenness,  the 
only  affinity  to  "nobility"  left  to  these  poor  lords  of  the 
forest. 


880  THE  SUNNY  south;  on, 

I  fear  America  has  much  sin  lying  at  her  door  for  her 
neglect  of  her  Indian  children. 

Our  car  contained  a  strange  medley.  Directly  in  front 
of  me  sat  a  handsome  yellow  "lady,"  her  head  sur- 
mounted hy  an  orange  and  scarlet  plaid  handkerchief, 
bound  about  it  Turkish-turban  fashion ;  a  style  that  pre- 
vails here  among  the  Creole  servants.  She  had  in  her 
ears  a  pair  of  gold  ear-rings,  as  large  as  a  half-dollar, 
plain  and  massive;  she  wore  a  necklace  of  gold  beads, 
hanging  from  which  was  a  cornelian  cross,  the  most 
beautiful  thing  I  ever  saw ;  upon  her  neck  was  a  richly- 
worked  black  lace  scarf ;  her  dress  was  plain  colored 
silk,  made  in  the  costliest  manner.  Her  olive  hands, 
which  had  very  tapering  fingers  and  remarkably  oval 
nails,  were  covered  with  rings,  chiefly  plain  gold  ones. 
In  one  hand  she  held  a  handsome  parasol,  and  the  other 
fondled  a  snow-white  French  poodle  upon  her  lap,  said 
poodle  having  the  tips  of  its  ears  tied  with  knots  of  pink 
ribbon,  and  a  collar  of  pink  silk  quilled,  and  made  like 
a  ruff,  while  the  end  of  its  tail  was  adorned  with  a  bow 
of  blue  ribbon,  in  the  tastiest  style ;  and,  as  if  his  poo- 
dleship  were  not  sufficiently  decorated  to  be  taken  to  the 
city  to  visit  its  town  cousins,  it  had  a  nice  bow  of  red 
satin  ribbon  tied  about  each  of  its  four  ancles.  This 
luxurious  little  fellow  took  it  quite  in  high  dudgeon 
that  I  should  scan  him  so  closely,  and  putting  his  little 
pink  feet  upon  her  shoulder,  he  shot  fire  out  of  his  deep- 
set  black  eyes,  and  began  to  yelp  at  me  most  outrage- 
ously. 

"^  Ja8,  Fidele,  fi  done!"  exclaimed  his  mistress,  in 
certainly  one  of  the  most  musical  voices  in  the  world ;  and 
gently   patting   the    ferocious   little   aristocrat   on   the 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  881 

shoulder,  she  tried  to  quell  its  expressions  of  hostility 
towards  me.  Finding  that  it  would  not  be  pacified,  she, 
turning  round,  and  fixing  upon  me  a  pair  of  magnificent 
eyes,  and  a  face  of  surprising  and  unlooked-for  beauty 
— a  strange  and  indescribable  sort  of  beauty — she  said: 

"  Pardon,  Ma'mselle !  La  b^te  s'est  mal  comportd 
envers  vous.  Tranquilliez  vous,  Fidele !  Ne  vous  in- 
quietez  pas!" 

Here  she  kissed  her  spiteful  little  favorite,  and  gradu- 
ally soothed  its  irascibility ;  but  it  would  occasionally, 
nevertheless,  glance  at  me  suspiciously,  and  utter  ti  petite 
growl  in  its  little  white  fleecy  throat.  The  seat  on  my  left 
contained  a  French  gentleman,  aged  and  thin,  with  a 
huge  gray  moustache  overshadowing  his  large  mouth. 
He  wore  a  long  nankin  blouse  (a  sort  of  loose  frock-coat) 
and  a  yellow  vest  with  bright  buttons,  gray  trowsers  and 
drab  gaiters — altogether  a  peculiar  costume,  especially 
with  his  hat,  which  had  a  brim  so  narrow  that  two  flies 
could  not  walk  arm-in-arm  around  it,  while  the  gray, 
weather-worn  crown  rose  upward  into  the  air  above  him 
like  a  rusty  stove-pipe.  The  intense  gravity  of  his  coun- 
tenance attracted  my  attention.  He  was  as  grave  and 
dignified  as  a  whole  bench  of  supreme  judges ;  yet  he 
carried  in  a  little  paste-board  box,  with  slits  cut  at  in- 
tervals therein,  a  little,  half-fledged  mocking-bird ;  car- 
ried it  as  tenderly  as  a  little  child  would  have  done ; 
watched  and  guarded  it  against  the  jolts  of  the  cars,  the 
sunshine  in  the  window,  and  the  draught  of  air  when  the 
door  was  left  open  by  the  conductor.  His  whole  heart 
seemed  to  be  wrapped  up  in  that  miserable  little  bird, 
which  sat  trembling  in  the  cage  so  pitifully,  that  I  felt 


332  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

like  asking  him  to  let  me  take  it  out  and  nestle  it  between 
the  palms  of  my  hands.     But  hear  him  talk  to  it ! 

"  Pauvre  petite  !  Ah,  bonne,  bonnette  !  Vous  avez 
bon  voyage.  Voyez  vous  les  arbres  ?  Voyez  vous  les 
jolis  champs?     Voyez  vous  les  bels  oiseaux?" 

He  would  then  hold  the  little  wretch  up  at  the  window 
and  point  out  the  trees,  and  fields,  and  flying  birds  to  it, 
exactly  as  if  it  could  understand  every  word  he  said,  and 
vastly  enjoyed  the  "bon  voyage"  and  the  sight  from  the 
window. 

The  cage  had  evidently  been  made  by  him,  impromptu, 
with  his  penknife,  and  was  a  very  ingenious  affair ;  and 
in  the  top  of  it  was  stuck  a  small  rose-bud  and  sprig  of 
thistle.  The  little  bird  was  evidently  his  pride  and  joy. 
He  had  perhaps  caught  it  in  the  fields,  and  was  taking  it 
home  to  his  grand-children,  or  had  purchased  it  for  some 
favorite. 

It  was  an  interesting  sight  to  see  a  tall,  warlike,  mus- 
tachioed man  thus  giving  his  whole  mind  to  such  a  little 
thing  as  the  poor,  chirping,  crying  young  one  in  the  cage ; 
but  it  was  beautiful  to  contemplate  the  scene.  It  showed 
a  good  heart  and  kind ;  that  he  was  affectionate  and  do- 
mestic, and  must  love  children  and  all  others  of  God's 
creatures  that  are  helpless.     I  regarded  him  with  respect. 

Finding  the  little  bird  did  not  seem  to  enjoy  the 
scenery,  he  took  a  piece  of  cake  from  his  pocket  and 
began  to  tempt  it  to  eat  a  crumb  from  the  end  of  his 
finger,  which  he  thrust  into  tho  cage.  "Mangez,  pe- 
tite !     Mangez  le  bon  gateau  !" 

In  a  few  minutes  the  cars  stopped  at  his  place,  and  he 
arose,  and  covering  the  cage  carefully  with  his  handker- 
chief, left  the  cars  with  it ;  and,  as  we  started  on,  I  saw 


THE   SOUTHEIINER   AT  HOME.  333 

him  approach  the  gate  of  a  pretty  Creole  cottage,  half 
hidden  in  grape  vines.  Several  children  and  their  youth- 
ful mother  came  to  meet  him.  "  Voyez,  voyez !"  he  cried, 
•with  great  glee,  holding  up  the  cage.  "  Voila  I'oiseau, 
mes  enfants.  Nous  chantons  comme  les  anges !"  and, 
opening  the  little  cage,  he  was  showing  them  his  prize, 
when  the  prisoner  made  a  spring  from  between  his  thumb 
and  finger,  and  fluttering  its  little  winglets,  went  sailing 
through  the  air  four  feet  from  the  ground,  and  threaten- 
ing to  knock  itself  against  it  every  minute. 

One  general  outcry  escaped  the  confounded  group, 
one  double  deep  base  mingled  with  altissimos;  and  as 
the  cars  were  whirling  us  beyond  view,  I  saw  the  whole 
party,  headed  by  the  tall,  gray-headed  French  grandpa, 
start  in  full  cry  after  the  hopping  and  flying  truant. 

But  I  reserve  the  rest  of  the  ride  into  the  city  for  my 
next.     Till  then,  faithfully 

Yours, 
Kate. 


334  THE  SUNNY  south:  or. 


LETTER    XLII. 

St.  Louis  Hotel,  New  Orleans. 

Dear  Mr. : 

My  last  I  closed  somewhat  abruptly,  as  you  per- 
ceived, in  the  midst  of  a  description  of  our  railroad  rido 
to  this  city.  I  will  now  resume  the  notes  of  my  journey 
where  I  broke  off,  as  I  wish  you  to  have  a  distinct  im- 
pression of  the  scenes  in  the  entrance  to  New  Orleans, 
by  the  cars. 

As  we  approached  the  city  through  a  level  landscape, 
level  as  a  lake,  we  flew  past  now  a  garden  on  this  side, 
now  a  Spanish-looking  little  villa  on  that,  the  gardens 
richly  foliaged  with  lemon  and  banana  trees,  and  far 
over-stretching  verandahs  shut  in  by  curtains  to  keep 
out  the  sun  from  the  piazzas.  Such  gardens  and  villas 
one  after  another  in  great  numbers  we  passed  for  a  mile 
or  so,  when  the  houses  grew  more  numerous,  the  gardens 
narrower  and  narrower,  and  shops  and  small  tenements 
were  crowding  together,  where  once  had  stood  the  orange, 
lemon,  and  banana  tree.  Side-walks  of  brick,  as  we 
darted  forward,  now  took  the  place  of  green  way-side 
paths  by  walls  and  fences,  and  stone  pavements  were 
substituted  for  natural  dirt  roads.  People  began  to  grow 
more  numerous  on  the  walks,  carts  laden  with  brick  and 
lumber,  carts  laden  with  vegetables  and  butcher's  meat, 
bread  carts,  and  ice  carts,  and  omnibuses   (those   un- 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  335 

sightly  vehicular  monstrosities)  rolled,  gallopped,  rattled, 
thundered,  raced,  and  rumbled  past,  and  cross-street 
wise,  making  it  impossible  almost  to  hear  one's  self  speak 
for  the  noise.  Onward  our  car  wheels  bore  us,  deeper 
and  deeper  into  the  living  heart  of  the  city.  Nothing 
but  small  shops  were  now  to  be  seen  on  either  hand,  with 
purchasing  throngs  going  in  and  coming  out  of  them, 
while  myriads  of  children  seemed  to  swarm  about  the 
doors,  crawl  along  the  curb-stones,  paddle  in  the  gutters, 
and  yell  miscellaneously  everywhere.  I  never  saw  so 
many  children  in  my  life.  Some  were  black,  some  not  so 
black,  some  yellow,  some  golden  skinned,  some  tawny, 
some  delicate  milk  and  gamboge  color,  and  some  pure 
white,  at  least,  such  spots  of  their  faces  as  the  dirt  suf- 
fered to  be  visible,  seemed  to  promise  an  Anglo-saxon 
complexion  underneath.  The  major  part,  however,  were 
olive  brown,  and  plainly  of  French  extraction;  and  I 
could  hear  the  bright  black-eyed  little  urchins  jabbering 
French,  to  a  marvel  of  correct  pronunciation  that  would 
have  amazed  a  school  girl. 

At  length  the  houses  grew  more  stately,  the  streets 
more  genteel,  the  crowds  more  elegantly  attired,  and  the 
cars  stopped,  and  we  were  in  New  Orleans ! 

In  an  instant  we  were  besieged  by  a  very  great  num- 
ber of  polite  gentlemen  with  whips  in  their  hands  and 
eager  visages  thrust  up  to  the  window. 

" Fiacre, madame!"  "Hack,  sir!"  "Carriage, ma'am." 
"Will  yer  ladyship's  bright  eyes  jist  look  at  my  iligant 
haack?"  insinuated  a  snub-nosed  son  of  Green  Erin, 
with  an  old  fur  cap  cocked  on  his  head,  the  visor  behind, 
giving  him  a  superlatively  impudent  look. 

Seeing  me  apparently  hesitate,  he  added  with  an  elo- 


THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

quent  intonation  in  his  rich  brogue.  "It  is  vilvit 
kushioned,  m'im,  and  glass  windies  intirely,  Miss,  and 
I've  got  the  naatest  tame  dat'll  take  ye  where  ye  wist  in 
no  time  at  all,  at  all!" 

At  this  juncture  Isidore  came  to  conduct  me  to  a 
carriage  with  the  rest  of  our  party.  As  we  descended 
the  steps  of  the  car,  a  Chinese,  in  his  small  tea-cup  of  a 
blue  cap,  presented  to  my  irresistible  temptation,  as  he 
thought,  some  beautiful  kites  made  of  blue,  yellow,  green, 
and  crimson  tissue  paper  in  the  shape  of  superb  butter- 
flies. They  were  two  feet  across  the  wings,  and  ele- 
gantly constructed  of  light  wire  bent  into  the  desired 
shape,  and  covered  with  the  paper.  He  asked  but 
twenty-five  cents  a  piece,  and  they  looked  so  invitingly 
pretty,  that  I  was  half  tempted  to  buy  one  for  myself, 
recollecting  my  girlish  days,  when  I  used  to  fly  kites, 
fish,  and  play  ball  with  my  brothers ;  but  before  I  made 
up  my  mind  to  this  speculation,  a  slender  sloe-eyed 
quadroon  girl  of  sixteen,  with  a  superb  smile,  offered  me 
a  delicious  bouquet,  from  a  basket  filled  with  them,  which 
she  was  adroitly  balancing  on  her  head.  The  rival  John- 
China-man  interposed  one  of  his  handsome  kites  between 
my  eyes  and  the  bouquet,  and  while  I  was  bewildered 
which  to  choose,  a  Frenchman  thrust  nearer  my  face 
than  all,  his  forefinger,  on  which  was  perched  a  splendid 
parrot,  with  a  nose  like  the  Duke  of  Wellington's. 

"Puy  de  kitee,  Meesee!  twenty-vive  cen',"  eagerly 
urged  the  Chinese. 

"Mussier  ne  veu'  'pas  le  bouquet  pour  mamsel?" 
softly  and  musically  entreated  the  girl,  of  Isidore,  in  her 
Creole  patois. 

"  Buy  pretty  Pollec.     Achetez  men  joli  oiseau !" 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  337 

"Polly  wantee  cracker,"  screamed  the  parrot  in  my 
ear. 

Thanks  to  the  carriage-step  at  hand,  by  which  I  was 
enabled  to  secure  a  flight  from  the  scene;  and  Isidore 
laughingly  handed  me  the  bouquet,  which  he  had  pur- 
chased of  the  quadroon,  who  thanked  him  with  a  bril- 
liant smile. 

Having  purchased  one  of  the  persevering  Chinaman's 
beautiful  kites  to  take  North,  as  a  curiosity  for  Yankee 
boys,  and  implored  the  parrot-man  to  take  his  noisy, 
squalling,  crooked-beaked,  saucy-eyed,  knowing-headed 
bird  out  of  my  sight,  the  carriage,  at  length,  moved  on 
out  of  the  throng ;  and  after  a  few  minutes'  rattling 
through  rough  paved  streets,  narrow  and  foreign-look- 
ing, we  reached  the  St.  Louis  hotel,  an  edifice  that 
looks  like  a  superb  Parisian  palace — and  a  palace  it  is, 
as  we  experience  in  all  its  internal  appointments  and 
comfortable  elegances  of  arrangement. 

Respectfully  yours, 

Kate. 
22 


^ 


338  -THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 


LETTER    XLIII. 

Hotel,  St.  Louis. 

Dear  Sir  : — How  shall  I  describe  to  you  this  city, 
so  as  to  convey  to  you  any  thing  like  an  adequate  idea 
of  it  ?  It  is  unlike  any  other  city  in  the  Union,  being 
foreign  in  air,  in  customs,  and  mainly  in  population. 
Level  as  the  water  level  of  the  river,  above  the  surface 
of  which  it  is  elevated  but  a  few  inches,  it  extends  for 
five  miles  along  a  grand  bend  of  the  river,  which,  dou- 
bling on  its  course,  sweeps  at  this  point  northward,  and 
then  southward  again,  forming  a  majestic  yoke,  or  letter 
U,  and  hence  its  name  Crescent  City.  The  front  of  the 
city  is  defended  from  floods  by  the  Levee,  which  is  raised 
a  few  feet  higher  than  the  general  plane  of  its  site. 
This  Levee  is  the  grandest  quay  in  the  world.  Tyre 
nor  Carthage,  Alexandria  nor  Genoa,  those  aforetime 
imperial  metropoles  of  merchant  princes,  boasted  no  quay 
like  the  Levee  of  New  Orleans. 

Picture  to  your  mind's  eye  an  esplanade  or  open  front, 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  broad,  shaped  like  a  new  moon,  its 
two  horns  four  miles  apart !  Behold  this  noble  space 
built  up  on  one  side  by  blocks  of  lofty  brick  or  stone- 
stores,  warehouses,  steam-presses,  hotels,  cotton  and 
sugar  magazines,  in  which  the  mightiest  energies,  talents, 
and  riches  of  commerce  have  their  fields  of  daily  activity. 
Interminably,  farther  than  the  eye  can  follow  them,  in 
their  recession  in  the  distance,  they  extend,  range  sue- 


THE   SOUTHERNER    AT   HOME.  ^89 

ceeding  to  range.  Opposite  this  league-front  of  stores 
lie  the  various  vessels  which  are  the  winged  servants  of 
the  princely  merchants,  who  occupy  these  commercial 
palaces.  The  whole  Levee  bank,  from  horn  to  horn  of 
the  magnificent  crescent,  is  lined  with  shipping  and 
steamers. 

First  are  the  cotton  ships,  which  extend  three  in  a 
tier  for  a  mile  and  a  half  in  unbroken  line,  their  inter- 
mingled masts  presenting  the  aspect  of  a  wintry  forest 
stripped  of  its  leaves.  I  have  been  along  the  whole 
Levee  in  a  carriage,  and  seen  all  this  with  my  own  eyes, 
and  as  I  gazed  I  wondered  at  the  sublime  spectacle.  A 
half  league  mass  of  ships,  those  proud  ocean  eagles 
which  swept  the  clouds  with  their  snowy  crests,  which 
rose  defiant  to  the  down  pressing  storm,  tossed  the  ocean 
spray  upon  their  necks,  as  the  horse  of  the  desert  flings 
his  mane,  whose  path  has  been  sublimely  held  amid  tem- 
pests and  displays  of  the  Almighty's  power,  whose  swift- 
ness, glory,  and  beauty  of  motion  and  form  mocked  that 
of  the  sea-bird — to  see  these  once  free  and  independent 
creatures,  (ships  to  me  always  seem  living  things  with 
life  in  them,  like  the  wheels  in  Ezekiel's  vision,) — to  see 
those  superb  ocean  messengers  stripped  of  their  white 
plumage,  tied  by  the  bit  to  wooden  wharves,  like  newly 
captured  elephants  to  strong  stakes — to  see  them  secured 
and  motionless,  fast  bound  in  chains  of  iron,  prisoners 
and  captives,  all  their  winged  swiftness  and  their  late 
ocean  freedom  changed  into  captivity,  made  me  feel  sad. 
I  gazed  on  them  with  pity  and  sympathy.  Yet,  cap- 
tives as  they  were,  tied  in  threes  as  I  beheld  them, 
divested  of  their  white  Avings  as  they  were,  there  was 
still  left  much  of  the  spirit  of  their  former  grandeur. 


840  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

Their  dark  hulls,  huge  and  massive,  rising  high  out  of 
the  water  and  overtopping  the  Levee  houses,  and  which 
I  had  to  gaze  up  at,  their  curving  bows  and  tall  bul- 
warks, their  noble  outlines  and  vast  proportions  still 
lent  them  a  dignity  which  commanded  respect. 

"Ah,  brave  ships,"  I  said,  "though  bound  fast  now  in 
port  like  caged  lions,  the  day  will  come  again,  when,  laden 
with  the  silvery  fleece  of  this  sunny  land,  and  the  glit- 
tering crystals  of  its  emerald  sugar  fields,  ye  will  once 
more  spread  your  broad  wings  to  the  breeze  of  heaven, 
your  now  motionless  keels  will  once  more  cleave  the 
blue  waves  of  the  illimitable  ocean,  and  again  you  shall 
try  your  oaken  strength  with  the  tornado,  and  do  mighty 
battle  with  the  billows.  Conquering  and  still  conquer- 
ing your  pathway,  you  shall  traverse  the  farthest  seas ; 
gome  of  you  penetrate  the  icy  Baltic,  to  lay  your  trea- 
sures at  the  feet  of  the  Russian  Czar;  some  of  you  pass 
beneath  the  frowning  shadow  of  Gibraltar,  and  win  your 
way  to  far  Egypt,  and  unlade  your  precious  burden  on 
the  quay  of  the  city,  where  once  reigned  Joseph  and  the 
Pharaohs ;  some  of  you  less  ambitious,  shall  follow  the 
curving  shores  of  our  vast  republic,  and  passing  the 
Vineyard  and  the  Capes  of  New  England,  shall  fold  your 
canvass  within  sound  of  the  church  bell  of  my  mother's 
native  town. 

As  we  rode  slowly  along,  gazing  on  the  poor  tied  up 
ships,  I  noticed  that  they  bore  flags  of  every  land;  for  a 
sea  captain  had  died  that  morning,  and  all  the  vessels  in 
port  had  their  colors  at  half  mast,  a  very  touching  ex- 
pression of  nautical  sorrow;  for  a  flag  not  completely 
hoisted,  is,  in  the  symbolic  language  of  seamen,  in- 
verted, a  signal  of  distress  at  sea,  of  sorrow  in  port.     My 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  341 

old  friend,  the  Bengal  captain,  (wlio  has  gone  to  sea 
:  again,  and  is  now  away  off  in  India,)  carried  this  half 
masting  idea  so  far,  that  being  in  mourning  for  a  rela- 
tion, with  black  crape  on  a  white  General  Jackson  hat, 
he  always  wore  the  strip  just  half  way  up  his  hat,  (half- 
inast,  as  he  called  it,)  with  a  streamer  half  a  foot  long, 
floating  out  behind.  The  dear  good  old  tease  of  a  Ben- 
gal tiger !  I  wonder  if  he  will  ever  write  me  that  long 
letter  he  promised  me  he  would  do,  and  tell  me  all  about 
his  adventures  in  those  far  away  lands  and  seas.     If  he 

does  keep  his  promise,  Mr. ,  the  letter  is  yours  to 

-  put  in  print. 

Some  of  the  ships  were  Swedish,  blunt,  square-bowed, 
.  high-shouldered,  buffalo-looking  hulks,  with  white-headed 
and  fair-skinned  men  on  board,  in  blue  and  red  woolen 
caps.  Their  pretty  flag  was  a  white  cross  on  a  blue 
ground,  with  a  scarlet  field  in  the  upper  corner,  orna- 
mented with  a  small  white  St.  Andrew's  cross,  (the  let- 
ter X.)  I  thought  of  sweet  Jenny  Lind,  as  I  looked  at 
the  flag  of  her  country,  which  I  felt  would  have  brought 
tears  of  joy  into  her  eyes,  to  have  seen  it  here,  so  far 
away  from  her  home-land. 

How  much  Sweden  owes  to  Jenny  Lind  in  song.  Miss 
Bremer  in  letters,  and  Thorwaldsen  in  sculpture!  But 
for  these  three  gifted  children  of  her  hills,  Sweden,  as 
before  their  birth,  would  be  obscurely  known  to  the 
vrorld.  But  they  have  placed  her  first  in  music,  first  in 
letters,  first  in  art ;  so  that  now  she  takes  her  proper  in- 
tellectual rank  with  the  cultivated  nations  of  Europe. 
If  three  persons  can  give  glory  to  their  native  land  in 
the  eyes  of  the  world,  how  carefully  ought  every  indi- 


342  THE  suxNY  south;  or, 

vidual  to  live,  that  he  may  peradventure  reflect  hoiior 
upon  his  own  nation !    No  one  is  insignificant. 

There  were  four  Swedish  ships,  and  two  Norwegian 
barques,  showing  in  their  flag  a  large  blue  cross  on  a  red 
ground,  the  flag  of  Ole  Bull's  land.  A  Portuguese  brig, 
with  her  pretty  green  and  white  striped  colors,  I  also 
saw.  There  were  half  a  dozen  Russian  ships,  with  their 
flags  striped  with  red,  white,  and  blue.  The  most  part 
of  the  vessels  displayed  the  star-spangled  banner,  flashing 
and  glittering  above  the  Yankee  decks,  as  saucily  as  though 
it  felt  itself  at  home  on  its  own  soil.  The  red,  sanguinary- 
looking  ensign  of  old  England,  with  its  double  cross  in 
one  corner  of  a  blue  ground,  floated  proudly  and  gloomily 
above  full  a  hundred  ships ;  for,  next  to  the  commerce 
of  our  own  ships,  that  of  England  stands  confessed. 
The  tri-colored  flag  of  France  was  visible  here  and  there, 
and  the  yellow  and  red  colors  of  Spain  flaunted  above 
inferior-looking  vessels. 

Of  the  Yankee  ships,  nearly  all  were  from  New  York, 
and  ports  north  of  it,  the  half  being  from  New  England, 
The  handsomest  ships  which  I  saw  were  from  Bath, 
Maine;  and  a  captain,  to  whom  the  colonel  spoke,  told 
me  that  the  best  ships  in  the  world  are  built  on  the  Ken- 
nebec river  in  Maine.  Those  which  I  saw  and  admired, 
were  certain>y  models  of  grace,  majesty,  and  strengtli. 
They  looked  like  peaceful  frigates,  tamed  down,  and 
broken  into  the  merchant  service.  After  leaving  the 
long  range  of  ships,  we  came  to  the  part  of  the  Levee 
where  the  Mississippi,  Ohio,  Missouri,  and  all  Northern 
and  interior  steamers  moor.  For  half  a  mile  it  was  a 
grand  display  of  snow-white  hulls,  round-topped  wheel- 
houses,  tall,  black,  iron  chimneys,   some  belching  forth 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  343 

clouds  of  murky  smoke,  that  rolled  and  rolled  over  the 
citj  like  threatening  thunder-clouds,  only  more  awful- 
looking.  I  never'  saw  anything  so  dreadfully  sable  as 
these  volumes  of  smoke,  which  rise  from  furnaces  crammed 
with  pine  knots  and  tar-barrels. 

After  the  steamboats,  come  the  small  Spanish  and 
Creole  coasters,  and  the  Texas  and  Florida  trading 
schooners,  which  are  very  numerous,  with  swarthy  crews 
in  red  shirts,  knife  in  belt,  and  with  huge  beards.  Then 
we  came  to  the  Ocean  steamers,  those  mammoth  sea-dan- 
dies that  go  steaming  about  the  world  smoking  their  rusty 
sheet-iron  cigars,  and  leading  a  very  fast  life,  much  to 
the  scandal  of  the  sober-going  merchantmen.  These 
steamers,  with  their  jet-black  aspect,  and  odd-looking, 
shark-headed  bows  and  huge  dimensions,  have  a  very  de- 
moniacal appearance ;  and  if  I  had  been  a  timid  person 
at  all,  I  should  have  hesitated  about  venturing  within 
their  capacious  power,  recollecting  how  Jonah  once  came 
too  near  a  sea-monster  of  a  similar  species,  and  was  swal- 
lowed whole. 

Nevertheless  we  went  on  board ;  but  as  they  were  tak- 
ing in  coal  with  scores  of  w^heel-barrows,  everything  was 
dusty,  noisy,  and  disagreeable;  and  painters  being  at 
work  in  the  cabin,  all  things  were  upside  down,  like 
a  New  England  scouring  day.  So  we  beat  a  retreat,  and 
continued  our  ride  two  miles  further,  again  coming  upon 
a  chain  of  ships  nearly  as  extensive  as  the  first  we  had 
seen  ;  both  sides  of  the  city  being  flanked  by  these  wooden 
marine  walls  and  forests  of  masts. 

Imagine  every  ship  engaged  in  lading,  or  unlading, 
every  steamer  discharging,  or  taking  in  freight  and  pas- 
sengers, and  every  third  one  letting  off  noisy  steam  and 


344  THE   SUNNY  SOUTH;   OR, 

belching  smoke ;  while  steamboats  constantly  arrive 
from  the  river  above,  and  round  to  and  land,  or  depart 
amid  the  roars  of  escape  pipes,  and  the  clamor  of  bells. 
Imagine  four  thousand  drays  aiding  in  loading  and  un- 
loading these  thousand  vessels,  and  moving  in  all  direc- 
tions along  the  Levee,  till  its  whole  surface  is  alive  with  a 
ceaseless  maelstrom  of  motion,  accompanied  by  a  noise 
of  hoofs,  wheels,  and  voices,  almost  deafening  in  their 
aggregated  thunderings.  Imagine  one  broad  field  of 
such  commercial  life,  four  miles  in  unbroken  extent,  and 
you  will  have  some  idea  of  the  "Levee"  at  New  Orleans. 
No  city  on  earth  can  present  such  a  striking  scene, — and 
all  at  one  glance  of  the  eye !  No  quay-view  anywhere 
could  convey  such  an  impression  to  the  mind  of  the  ob- 
server, of  the  power,  and  might,  and  action,  and  energy 
of  commerce. 

But  as  I  gazed  upon  all  this,  I  could  not  help  recalling 
the  terrible  chapter  in  Revelations  addressed  to  Babylon, 
"  that  great  city  wherein  was  made  rich  all  that  had 
ships  in  the  sea,  by  reason  of  her  costliness." 

For  her  luxuries  and  sins,  Babylon  was  terribly  judged ! 
Will  this  city  remember  God,  and  glorify  Him  "  who 
maketh  the  merchants  of  the  earth  to  wax  rich,"  when 
they  say,  "  What  city  is  like  unto  this  great  city  ?  Shall 
she  also  be  made  desolate,  and  her  crown  be  removed 
and  cast  into  the  dust  ?  God  forbid  !  Let  Religion  go 
hand  in  hand  with,  and  sanctify  Commerce,  and  this  city 
need  not  fear  what  otherwise  it  should  apprehend, — the 
doom  of  all  those  hitherto  which  have  forgotten  from 
whose  Hand  "  coraeth  all  prosperity." 

Your  friend, 

K.  C. 


THE   SOUTHERNER  AT  HOME.  345 


LETTER    XLIV. 


Dear  Mr. : 

This  is  the  last  day  we  are  to  remain  in  this  Franco- 
American  Metropolis  of  the  South.  What  with  shopping 
with  dear  Bell,  in  assisting  her  in  making  bridal  pur- 
chases— with  riding  at  twilight  on  the  magnificent  "shell 
road,"  with  visiting  the  cathedrals,  and  churches,  and 
public  edifices,  and  above  all,  for  interest,  the  old  ceme- 
teries of  the  city,  my  time  has  been  fully  occupied. 

Our  hotel  is  in  the  French  quarter  of  the  city,  and  a 
grand,  French  Tuilleries'  looking  affair  as  it  is.  It  is 
under  the  superintendance  of  Mr.  Mudge,  who  is  a  native 
of  New  England,  was  formerly  a  dry-goods  merchant  in 
Portland,  and  being  unsuccessful  in  business,  came  out 
here  many  years  ago  to  make  his  fortune,  and,  unlike 
many  who  go  from  home  for  this  purpose,  he  has  emi- 
nently succeeded.  From  being  only  a  salaried  assistant 
in  the  office  of  the  St.  Charles,  he  rose  by  his  probity, 
industry,  talents,  and  genius,  to  become  its  proprietor; 
and  now  is  manager  temporarily  of  this  until  the  St. 
Charles  is  rebuilt.  He  is  a  gentleman  of  fine  manners, 
a  pleasant  countenance,  and  has  a  most  interesting  and 
charming  family.  To  manage  a  hotel  now-a-days,  re- 
quires very  much  the  sort  of  talent  requisite  in  a  com- 
mander of  a  man-of-war  or  a  military  officer,  and  this 
ability  Mr.  Mudge  possesses.     Hotel  managing  is  a  pro- 


THE   SUNNY   south;   OR, 

fession,  and  a  highly  honorable  one.  It  requires  training, 
talent,  nay,  genius.  The  first  hotel  started  in  the  United 
States,  on  the  modern  plan,  was  the  Tremont.  Its  clerks 
became  managers  of  others,  till  now,  in  all  the  best  hotels, 
the  managers  have  either  been  educated  to  their  office  at 
the  Tremont  or  Astor,  (which  sprung  from  the  Tremont 
under  Mr.  Stetson,)  or  by  gentlemen  who  graduated  at 
one  or  the  other  of  the  "Hotel  Universities."  Those 
large  establishments  are  now  regular  colleges,  and  should 
issue  "  diplomas"  to  their  graduates.  It  is  not  now,  as 
it  was  formerly,  that  a  man,  who  is  not  fit  for  any  other 
business,  can  keep  a  hotel. 

All  this  knowledge  I  have  got  from  hearing  a  conver- 
sation between  the  colonel  and  one  of  the  proprietors  of 
the  house.  Nothing  can  be  more  recherchd,  more  su- 
perb, more  in  perfection,  than  every  appointment  about 
this  noble  house.  It  strikes  me  that  Queen  Victoria 
could  not  entertain  us  better  in  Windsor  Castle,  than 
Mr.  Mudge  does  here. 

I  love  to  walk  through  the  French  streets,  and  look 
into  the  prettily  fixed-up  shops,  or  sit  in  the  drawing- 
room  window,  and  gaze  out  upon  the  streets,  watching 
the  passers-by,  and  the  people  in  the  neighborhood. 
Two-thirds  of  them  are  French,  the  gentlemen  with  mus- 
taches, which  seem  to  be  worn  universally  here,  and  the 
ladies  in  Parisian  hats,  and  long  lace  veils,  with  dresses 
very  short,  to  exhibit  their  pretty  feet, 

"  Like  little  mice  peeping  in  and  out," 

as  they  trip  along  the  banquette;  which,  by  the  way,  is 
the  ordinary  name  here  for  side- walk.  The  French  arc 
a  very  odd  people.     They  don't  seem  to  know  or  care 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  347 

that  anybody  looks  or  listens.  They  talk  and  gesticu- 
late in  the  most  extravagantly  ridiculous  manner,  and  I 
am  infinitely  amused  a  hundred  times  a-day  at  what 
passes  before  me. 

One  old  man  comes  out  and  sits  in  an  arm-chair  on 
the  banquette,  and  does  nothing  but  make  little  paper 
cigars  and  smoke  them,  and  read  an  old  torn  book, 
through  a  pair  of  enormous,  round-eyed,  iron  spectacles. 
No  matter  who  goes  by,  what  goes  on  around  him,  there 
he  sits,  the  crowd  passing  and  repassing  him,  as  quiet 
and  unconcerned  as  if  he  were  alone  on  Robinson  Cru- 
soe's island.  At  eleven  o'clock,  a  little  negress,  in  a 
bright  red  'kerchief  bound  tastefully  about  her  brows, 
brings  him  out  on  a  waiter  a  bottle  of  claret  and  a  little 
tumbler.  He  drinks  three  glasses,  and  she  retires,  while 
he  resumes  his  smokinsr  and  reading;  the  old  book.  Once 
I  saw  a  priest  stop  and  address  him.  The  old  man  rose, 
bowed  politely,  crossed  himself,  oiFered  the  priest  a  cigar, 
which  was  accepted;  the  priest  bowed  and  went  on, 
while  Monsieur,  crossing  his  breast,  bowed  and  reseated 
himself,  with  a  half  smile  on  his  old  visage,  as  if  the 
brief  interview  with  the  priest  had  gratified  him. 

Not  far  from  this  person  sits  from  morning  to  night, 
in  a  shop  door,  a  sallow,  thin  lady,  engaged  in  working 
a  piece  of  embroidery.  She  has  her  soup  and  garlic 
brought  to  her  by  a  child,  and  eats  her  dinner  in  face  of 
the  world  with  perfect  indiflerence. 

The  French  seem  to  love  "out  doors."  They  turn 
themselves,  the  whole  population,  from  their  doors  at  the 
close  of  the  afternoon,  and  sit  on  the  banquette  till  bed- 
time, talking,  laughing,  singing,  and  even  eating  their 
suppers,  if  the  banquette  be  wide  enough.     They  are,  as 


348  THE  SUNNY  SOUTH;   oil, 

all  say  of  the  French,  a  gay,  happy  people,  and  seem  to 
be  quite  divested  of  all  care  for  the  morrow.  It  is  our 
American  undue  care  for  to-morrow,  that  makes  the  to- 
day always  so  heavy.  They  make  it  bear  its  own  weight 
and  to-morrow's,  a  double  burden  which  our  Saviour 
wisely  forbade  us  to  put  upon  ourselves.  A  present  is 
the  life  of  the  French. 

There  are  two  distinct  cities  that  make  up  New  Or- 
leans— the  American  and  French.  The  former  is  so 
much  like  a  Northern  city  that  I  did  not  remain  in  it 
much,  although  the  most  superb  portion;  but  I  took 
kindly  to  the  latter  for  its  very  novelty.  In  the  French 
part,  few  of  the  population  speak  English.  Their  lan- 
guage, manners,  customs,  are  preserved ;  and  a  Parisian 
would  think  himself  in  a  city  of  France,  if  he  did  not 
cross  Canal  street,  which  is  the  Rubicon  that  separates 
the  American  quarter  from  it. 

In  walking  through  the  French  municipality,  or  dis- 
trict, I  could  hardly  realize  that  I  was  in  my  native 
land.  French  names  to  streets — Rue  Bien-ville,  Rue 
Royal,  Rue  Chartres !  French  signs  above  the  stores,  and 
within  mustached  Gallic  visages  of  men,  and  dark-eyed 
foreign-looking  women,  with  smooth,  raven  hair  dressed 
a  la  Suisse;  French  architecture  everywhere,  and  the 
French  tongue  constantly  heard  by  old  and  young,  by 
African  and  freemen!  All  these  peculiarities  made  it 
almost  impossible  for  me  not  to  fancy  myself  in  Europe. 
If  I  entered  a  shop  J)es  modes,  I  was  addressed  in  French 
by  a  smiling  dame,  or  a  polite  Monsieur.  If  I  asked  a 
direction  in  the  street,  I  was  answered  in  the  same 
tongue.  If  I  entered  a  book  store,  I  found  in  every 
volume  I  took  up  the  native  language  of  Lafayette.     The 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  349 

yellow  fiacre-men  called  to  their  horses  in  a  patois  of 
the  same  language,  and  a  woman  at  the  corner  of  the 
street  offered  me  Boston  apples,  with  a  "Mam'sel,  veut 
ellc  des  pommes  ce  matin?" 

If  I  passed  two  gentleman  conversing,  I  heard  French ; 
and  the  children  shouted  to  each  other  in  the  same  uni- 
versal speech,  much  to  the  amazement  undisguised  of 
Edith,  who  attended  Bell,  Monsieur  Isidore,  and  me,  in 
our  peramhulations,  and  who  could  not  comprehend  how 
little  barefooted  wretches  of  six  and  seven  years  could 
talk  the  language  which  "Missy  Bella"  had  been  three 
years  in  learning  with  masters  at  an  expense  of  hundreds 
of  dollars. 

It  seemed  to  her  ignorance  of  things  quite  an  unequal 
distribution  of  gifts  of  Providence.  On  her  return  she 
will  probably  excite  the  wonder  of  the  whole  Ethiopian 
population  of  the  plantation,  by  asseverating  that  she 
heard  in  New  Orleans  little  children  talking  French.     I 

do  assure  you,  frankly  confessing  it,  Mr. ,  that  it 

made  me  quite  indignant  to  hear  the  little  imps  so  inde- 
pendently speaking  the  language  without  ever  having 
looked  into  a  horrid  grammar,  and  being  wholly  innocent 
of  dictionaries,  who  had  never  conjugated  avoir  nor  faire, 
and  knew  no  more  of  Stre  than  they  did  of  the  119th 
Psalm.  I  felt  like  giving  every  one  of  them  a  good 
whipping,  thinking  how  many  wakeful  hours  I  had  spent 
on  grammars  and  dictionaries,  to  learn  what  came  to 
them,  as  their  walking  did,  by  nature.  We  found  that 
the  French  spoken  to  us  in  the  shops  was  not  a  little 
different  from  the  Parisian  pronunciation.  I  noticed  that 
the  Orleanois  clip  their  words,  do  not  speak  the  nasal 
termination  so  full  and  distinct,  and  have  a  shriller  in- 


85(>  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

tonation  throughout.  I  should  judge  that  the  difference 
in  pronunciation  between  them  and  the  Parisians  to  be 
greater  than  between  New  Englanders  and  educated 
Enghshmen.  As  these  are  easily  distinguished  from  one 
another  although  saying  the  same  words,  so  are  the 
Louisiana  French  to  be  easily  distinguished  from  the 
Parisian. 

There  are  a  good  many  French  gentlemen  here  at 
present  who  have  taken  prominent  parts  in  the  politics 
of  France,  and  who  find  French  soil  unsafe  for  their  feet 
just  now.  One  of  these  expressed  himself  to  me  at  table 
yesterday  with  great  animation  about  this  country  and 
the  society  of  New  Orleans,  with  which,  he  said,  he  was 
perfectly  charmed.  "There  is  a  naivetd  and  simple 
grace  in  the  ladies,"  he  remarked,  "that  we  see  not  in 
France,  at  least  not  exactly  like  it.  They  are  gentle, 
yet  proud ;  independent,  yet,  like  the  vine,  seem  to  look 
to  the  sterner  sex  for  support;  intelligent,  yet  indolent; 
not  much  learned  in  books,  yet  irresistibly  captivating 
in  conversation.  They  seem  to  combine,"  he  added, 
"the  splendor  and  haughty  bearing  of  the  Spanish 
women,  with  the  tender  loveliness  of  the  Italian,  the 
bonhomie  of  the  French,  and  the  discretion  and  repose 
of  the  English:  a  noble  combination  which  would  con- 
stitute a  perfect  national  character." 

I  agree  with  Monsieur  de  B so  completely  that 

I  give  his  description  of  the  Louisianaise  as  my  own.   j» 

Yesterday  I  had  pointed  out  to  me  a  large,  heavy, 
gigantic-looking  personage,  in  a  blue  frock-coat  and  gray 
trowsers,  as  the  Prince  de  Wurtemburg,  who  is  traveling 
in  the  United  States.  He  is  a  fair  Saxon  in  aspect, 
with  a  flashy  countenance,  blue  eyes,  and  double  chin — 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  351 

a  thorough  heavy  German.     I  was  at  once  interested  in 

him,  not  because  he  was  a  prince,  Mr. ,  because  all 

our  young  Americans  of  "Young  America"  are  princes 
born, — ^but  from  the  fact  that  he  is  a  lineal  descendant 
of  that  good  Duke  of  Wurtemburg  who  was  Luther's  fast 
friend,  and  whose  adhesion  to  the  Protestant  cause  gave 
such  impetus  to  the  Reformation. 

There  are  scores  of  the  old  noblesse  of  France  living 
here  in  quiet  and  more  or  less  competency;  some  as 
gentlemen  still,  others  as  fabricateurs  of  cigars,  teachers, 
&c.  Here  also  are  to  be  found  exiles  of  all  nations, 
and  men  of  desperate  fortunes,  self-expatriated.  Every 
language  of  the  civilized  world  can  be  heard  in  this  city 
in  a  day's  ramble  through  its  thoroughfares. 

Yours  respectfully, 

Kate. 


352  THE  SUNNY  SOUTH;   OR, 


LETTER    XLV. 

Dear  Mr. : 

The  more  I  see  and  understand  this  Franco- Ameri- 
can city,  the  more  I  am  pleased  with  it.     The  novelty ' 
of  its  being  a  perfect  plain,  level  as  a  chess-board,  is  one 
of  its  striking  characteristics,  in  a  northern  eye.     Next 
is  its  foreign  air,  then  there  is  the  magnificent  coup  d'ceil 
of  its  league-long  quay,  the  majesty  of  its  moving  river,' 
the  massive  grandeur  of  its  public  edifices,  in  which  New 
Orleans  surpasses  northern  cities,  and  the  picturesque  ■ 
variety  of  costumes  in  the  streets.     Even  the  water  in 
the  streets,  after  a  heavy  shower,  runs  atvaT/  from  the 
river  towards  the  rear  of  the  town,  instead  of  running 
into  the  river,  as  it  ought  to  do  in  all  well-regulated 
corporations. 

The  cause  of  this  latter  peculiarity  is  that  the  river'  ' 
is  higher  than  the  level  bottom  on  which  the  city  stands, 
and  from  its  shore  the  land  gently  inclines  for  a  mile  or  |j 
two,  until  a  dead  level  is  reached  where  the  waters  lie 
immovable.  Like  all  rivers  through  an  alluvial  region, 
the  Mississippi  flows  grandly  and  loftily  along  on  a  ridge 
of  its  own  making,  and  which  it  continues  to  elevate  by 
every  muddy  overflow. 

But  I  leave  these  matters  to  Sir  Charles  Lyell  and 
Professor  Forshay,  and  will  write  less  learnedly,  albeit 
learned  ladies  are  now  the  mode,  and  all  our  female 
boarding-schools  are  transmogrified  into  Collegiate  Insti- 


THE    SOUTHERXER   AT    HOME.  353 

tutes,  and  colleges  where  degrees  are  bestowed,  asserting 
that  the  young  ladies  are  proficients  in  (making  pies  and 
puddings,  doing  up  preserves,  churning  butter,  and  press- 
ing cheeses,  roasting,  baking,  and  boiling,  making  shirts 
and  mending  cassimeres  ?)  oh  no !  no,  no,  no,  but  in  ana- 
lyzing the  atmosphere  into  globules ;  in  explaining  the 
electric  battery ;  in  measuring  the  depth  of  the  primary 
secondary,  and  tertiary  formations ;  in  dissolving  the 
nebula  trapezium  in  the  belt  of  Orion  into  stars  ;  in  con- 
densing vapor,  and  explaining  the  mystery  of  the  steam- 
engine,  and  'perfectly  familiar  with  the  science  of  political 
government,  and  can  demonstrate  the  forty-seventh  Pro- 
blem of  Dr.  Euclid ! 

I  have  to-day  passed  two  hours,  divided  between 
two  of  the  great  Roman  Catholic  churches  here,  one 
of  which,  on  Place  d'Armes,  is  a  cathedral,  by  which 
term  I  understand  the  church  wherein  the  Bishop  or 
Archbishop  himself  preaches. 

We  went  to  the  cathedral  first,  which  fronts,  with  the 
State  government  offices,  a  sweet  public  garden,  adorned 
with  snow-white  statues,  and  interlaced  by  lovely  walks  ; 
an  oasis  of  taste  in  the  very  heart  of  noisy  commerce, 
like  a  gentle  thought  in  a  bad  man's  breast.  This  square 
is  not  large,  but  it  is  a  hon  ton  of  squares,  for  its  neatness 
and  attractive  air.  On  one  side  the  massive  walls,  tower, 
and  turrets  of  the  cathedral  look  protectively  down  upon 
it ;  on  two  other  sides  stand  the  noble  ranges  of  edifices 
called  the  Montalban  Buildings,  constructed  alike,  and 
facing  each  other  on  opposite  sides  of  the  Plaza.  The 
fourth  side  is  open  to  the  quay  and  river,  at  the  point 
where  the  magnificent  ocean-steamers  lie,  to  repose  a 
while  from  their  stormy  voyages  from  clime  to  clime. 
28 


354  THE  SUNNY  south;  or, 

The  walks  in  the  square  were  lively  with  nurses  and 
children,  while  laz  j  fellows  with  mustaches  lay  asleep  on 
the  luxurious  grass,  or  smoked  cigars.  This  square  has 
been  for  more  than  a  century  the  parade-ground  of  the 
troops  of  the  several  nations  which  have  held  New  Or- 
leans :  Spanish,  French,  English,  and  now  Americans. 
It  was  formerly  the  place  of  public  execution,  and  from 
it  is  fired  at  nine  o'clock  the  cannon  which  we  have  heard 
every  night  at  that  hour  shake  the  city,  and  start  Isabel 
and  me,  and  other  unsophisticated  country  girls,  from  our 
propriety. 

The  cathedral  has  an  imposing  and  costly  air.  It  is 
the  old  cathedral,  that  ancient,  time-honored  structure,  of 
which  I  have  read  in  novels,  and  the  very  sight  of  which 
creates  a  romance  in  the  imagination.  But  modern 
taste  has  veneered  all  this  antiquity,  and  out  of  the  old 
pile  has  produced  a  very  elegant  temple  of  worship. 
We  made  our  way  along  the  front  of  the  government 
offices,  between  massive  columns  supporting  a  corridor, 
and  a  row  of  cabriolets,  which  are  the  "hacks"  of  New 
Orleans.  The  cabriolet  is  a  handsome,  chariot-shaped 
vehicle,  that  is  too  pretty  to  be  confined,  as  it  is,  en- 
tirely to  the  hack-stand.  These  cabs,  as  they  are  called 
"for  short,"  are  driven  by  Irishmen,  or  by  colored  men, 
tlie  latter  of  whom  sat  half  asleep  on  the  boxes,  Avhile 
the  sons  of  Erin  were  alert,  and  extended  to  us  very 
pressing  and  polite  invitations  to  suifer  them  to  have  the 
"  honor  of  dhrivin'  our  ladyship  and  our  honors  to  any 
part  of  the  city."  The  front  doors  of  the  cathedral 
were  closed,  but  M.  de  Clery,  our  attendant,  turned  with 
us  down  a  narrow  avenue,  which  had  the  wall  of  the 
cathedral  on  our  left,  and  a  row  of  French-looking  build- 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  355 

ings  on  our  right,  which,  said  Isidore,  are  occupied  by 
the  priests ;  and  of  this  fact  we  had  ocular  proof,  by 
seeing  two  sleek  and  unctuous-looking  gentlemen,  with 
pleasant  visages,  sitting  on  a  balcony,  one  with  a  paper 
cigar  in  his  lips,  and  the  other  reading  to  him  from  a 
small,  greasy  book ;  there  was  also  a  very  young,  slen- 
der-looking priest  in  a  long,  black  serge-gown,  reaching 

•  to  his  heels,  who  was  at  the  door  of  another  house,  pur- 
chasing, with  a  smile  and  a  jest,  some  superb  Huston 
peaches  from  a  basket  balanced  on  the  head  of  a  Creole 
woman. 

We  proceeded  about  fifty  yards  down  this  avenue  when 
we  came  to  a  side  door,  which  an  elegantly  shaped,  veiled 
female  was  in  the  act  of  opening  to  go  in.  Isidore  po- 
litely held  the  door  for  her  and  us,  and  we  passed  through 
a  second  cloth  door  into  the  interior.  At  our  left  was  a 
marble  basin,  containing  consecrated  water,  into  which  the 
veiled  lady  dipped  the  tip  of  her  forefinger,  and,  turning 
round  to  the  shrine  of  the  Virgin,  crossed  herself  on  the 
forehead  and  bosom  gracefully,  at  the  same  time  bending 
her  head  in  the  act  of  adoration.  The  cross  is  made  by 
touching  the  forehead,  the  breast,  the  left  shoulder,  and 
lastly  the  right,  in  quick  succession  with  the  right  fore- 
finger. 

The  door  by  which  we  entered,  brought  us  into  the 
Cathedral,  close  to  the  shrine  of  St.  Joseph,  near  the 
chancel.  The  extreme  beauty  of  the  interior ;  the  soft, 
mellow,  lemon-toned  tint  of  the  ceiling  and  columns,  the 
vast  height  of  the  fresco-adorned  dome  ;  the  variety  of 
fine  architectural  forms  into  which  the  walls  around  us 
and  the  ceiling  were  shaped ;  the  liberal  air  of  space  and 

"■'  expenditure  apparent  everywhere ;  the  superb  altar,  with 


356  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

its  commingled  paraphernalia  of  splendid  things,  of  which 
I  neither  knew  the  name  nor  their  use,  fixed  my  admira- 
tion, and  riveted  me  to  the  spot  from  which  I  first  caught 
a  view  of  the  rich  ensemble. 

After  a  few  minutes,  when  I  had  comprehended  the 
grand  outline,  I  began  to  examine  details.  I  walked 
around  the  immense  church,  from  shrine  to  shrine,  and 
from  picture  to  picture.  The  last  are  always  daubs,  in 
all  Roman  churches,  except  the  altar  paintings,  which 
are  always  rich,  and  usually  by  a  master's  pencil. 

I  allude,  under  the  term  "pictures,"  not  to  the  great 
oil-paintings  which  rise  above  the  central  shrine,  but  to 
those  colored  engravings,  in  black  or  rosewood  frames, 
that  are  seen  in  all  these  churches.  They  represent,  in 
a  series,  the  events  in  the  sufferings  of  Christ,  from  his 
arrest  to  his  ascension.  These  pictures  are,  I  think,  sixteen 
in  number,  and  are  so  hung  around  the  church,  that  a  vo- 
tary, commencing  with  Jesus  in  the  hands  of  His  captors, 
ends  on  the  other  side  of  the  church  with  bowing  before  the 
representation  of  His  crucifixion.  All  good  Romans 
often  make  the  "penitential  journey"  round  the  church, 
saying  a  prayer  (composed  for  the  purpose,  in  their  Li- 
turgy) before  each  picture,  having  reference  to  the  scene 
represented  by  it.  These  pictures  are  always  engravings, 
highly-colored,  and  sold  by  the  set  to  supply  churches, 
not  only  in  this  country  but  in  Europe.  Each  one  is 
sacredly  surmounted  by  a  little  black  cross. 

As  we  entered,  a  negress,  with  a  little  mulatto  child  in 
her  hands,  was  engaged  devoutly  making  the  tour  of  the 
"Passion  of  Jesus."  I  watched  her,  and  saw  her  kneel  be- 
fore each  engraving,  and  mutter  her  prayer,  the  little, 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  357 

blaok-eyed  child  pulled  down  on  its  knees  by  her  side,  but 
its  shining  eyes  always  turned  around  and  fixed  on  us. 

There  were  several  confessional  boxes.  Seeing  the  skirt 
of  a  robe  protruding  from  the  alcove  by  the  side  of  one, 
I  moved  in  that  direction,  and  beheld  the  graceful  lady, 
whom  I  had  for  a  few  times  lost  sight  of,  kneeling  before 
the  lattice  blind,  with  her  mouth  close  to  it,  and  pouring 
into  the  ear  of  the  unseen  priest,  shut  up  within,  her  se- 
crets and  her  sins ! 

That  she  was  penitent,  I  felt  sure,  for  there  were 
"tears  in  her  voice,"  as  its  slow  sounds  reached  my  he- 
retical ears.  Sorrow  always  commands  reverence.  I 
turned  away,  leaving  her  to  her  humiliating  work,  and 
wishing  to  say  to  her  in  the  language  of  inspiration, 
"  Daughter  !  None  forgiveth  sins,  but  God  only  !"  Ah, 
this  confessional !  It  is  the  secret  of  Roman  power  over 
the  consciences  of  her  people.  "  Tell  me  your  secrets, 
and.you  are  my  slave,"  was  said  two  thousand  years  ago, 
by  a  Greek  writer ;  and  it  is  true  to-day,  and  Rome 
practically  asserts  its  truth. 

I  observed  that  over  the  door  of  each  of  the  confes- 
sionals was  printed  in  gold  letters,  the  name  of  the  father- 
confessor  ;  so  that  the  penitent  knows  (possibly  if  no  mis- 
chievous and  evil-minded  young  priest  steal  in,  or  jealous 
husband  unawares  to  priest  and  penitent)  to  whom  she 
is  unfolding  the  secret  intents  and  thoughts  of  her  heart. 
I  should  hardly  be  willing  to  tell  my  husband  everything, 
(if  I  had  one,  Mr. ,)  less  so  to  one  of  these  jovial- 
eyed,  good-natured,  bald-headed  padres  !  and  much  less 
to  a  handsome  young  fellow  of  a  priest,  whom  I  saw  cross 
the  chancel,  in  at  one  door  and  out  of  the  other,  half 
bending  his  knee  before  the  crucifix  on  the  altar,  as  he 


358  THE   SUNNY    SOUTH;    OR, 

passed  by  it,  not  witliout  half  an  eye  cast  upon  our 
party  '  The  confessional  alone  would  frighten  me  from 
ever  being  a  Romanist. 

If  you  have  ever  been  in  a  Roman  church,  you  must 
have  been  struck  with  the  three  great  altars  or  shrines 
which  are  invariably  in  all  of  them,  at  the  east  end  of 
the  church.  The  centre  one  is  the  High  Altar,  with  the 
crucifix,  holy,  vessels,  &c.,  and  is  the  shrine  of  Jesus ! 
On  the  right  of  this,  at  the  same  end,  is  the  shrine  of  the 
Virgin  with  her  altar,  and  the  objects  associated  with  her 
worship.  On  the  left  of  the  High  Altar,  at  the  same 
end,  is  the  shrine  and  altar  of  St.  Joseph,  the  husband 
of  Mary. 

These  three  altars  take  up  the  whole  of  the  east  end 
of  all  Roman  churches.  The  three  are  equally  wor- 
shiped, or  rather  the  shrines;  and  the  Virgin  always 
has  the  greatest  number  of  votaries.  Her  altar  is  heaped 
with  the  freshest  flowers;  and  three  kneel  before  her 
shrine,  where  one  kneels  before  the  high  altar  of  "  the 
Christ." 

The  religion  of  Rome  is  Mariolatry.  The  Mother  of 
Jesus  is  the  supreme  object  of  the  worship,  homage, 
adoration,  and  supplication  of  Romanists.  Jesus  is  wor- 
shiped and  adored  not  as  "the  ascended  Lord,"  but  as 
the  infant  in  arms.  He  is  a  peculiarity  of  the  Roman 
worship.  They  are  so  accustomed  to  think  of,  and  to  be- 
hold Jesus  in  the  arms  of  His  Mother,  that  they  lose  sight 
of  Him  as  "the  Man  Christ  Jesus;"  and  the  habit  of 
seeing  Him  only  as  an  Infant  leads  them  to  look  upon 
the  Blessed  Mother  alone  in  the  light  of  protectress  and 
guardian  of  the  Holy  Child.  Thus  they  associate  with 
her  a  maternal  influence  and  maternal  power  in  relation 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  359 

to  Him,  -which  is  the  foundation  of  their  whole  system 
of  "Prayers  to  the  Virgin." 

Christ  in  the  arms  is  the  centre  of  Roman  worship : 
Christ  on  the  cross,  of  Protestant.  It  is  natural  there- 
fore that  the  worshiper  of  the  babe  should  transfer  a 
I^art  of  adoration  to  its  mother. 

After  half  an  hour  spent  in  the  Cathedral,  we  de- 
parted as  we  came,  and  taking  one  of  the  cabriolets, 
drove  to  St.  Patrick's  Church ;  of  my  visit  to  which  I 
will  not  trouble  you  with  an  account,  as  it  interested  me 
less  than  that  to  the  Cathedral.  On  our  way  we  paused 
at  Christ  Church,  the  richest  Episcopal  Church  in  this 
city.  It  is  a  low,  ill-planned  structure  for  its  archi- 
tectural pretensions,  looking,  as  if  the  main  body  had 
sunk  some  six  feet  under  ground,  after  being  built,  and 
the  spire  had  sunk  as  many  feet  down  into  the  bosom  of 
the  tower.  The  whole  wants  elevation,  and  up-lifting 
into  the  air. 

The  interior  I  am  told  is  very  rich;  but  gates  and 
doors  were  locked, — for,  I  regret  to  say,  the  Romans 
are  the  only  people  who  "shut  not  their  gates"  to  the 
foot  of  the  wayfaring  worshiper,  who,  at  all  times, 
should  be  able  to  enter  the  "  courts  of  the  House  of  the 
Lord,  and  worship  towards  His  holy  temple." 

Very  respectfully, 

K.  C. 


TUE    SUNNY   south;    OR, 


LETTER    XLVI. 

Chateatj  de  Clery,  La. 


Dear  Mr. : 

This  letter's  date  shows  you  that  I  am  once  more 
an  inmate  of  the  charming  abode  from  which  I  have  so 
frequently  written  you.  My  last  was  dated  at  New 
Orleans,  where  we  had  been  to  purchase  the  hundred 
little  elegancies  for  Isabel's  bridal,  which  having  done  to 
all  our  satisfactions,  we  returned  home  on  Tuesday  last. 
I  see  by  one  of  your  papers  that  I  have  been  so  dis- 
tinguished as  to  find  a  critic. 

Dear  me !  I  had  no  idea,  not  the  remotest,  that  any 
thing  coming  from  my  pen  could  be  worthy  of  the  notice 
of  any  other  pen,  especially  such  a  graceful  one  as  that 
of  your  New  Orleans  correspondent.  If  I  use  "Needles," 
her  pens  are  pointed  with  gold,  and  sharpened  with 
diamond  dust.  Present  to  her  my  most  gracious  com- 
pliments, and  say  to  her  that  she  is  right  in  supposing  I 
had  made  a  mistake  in  giving  to  one  railroad  terminus 
some  descriptive  sentences  which  really  belonged  to  the 
other !  I  thank  her  for  the  correction  and  especially  for 
making  it  so  pleasantly.     But  who  could  be  expected  to 

have  their  heads  perfectly  clear,  Mr. ,  (I  ask  you, 

who  are  a  married  man,  and  ought  to  know  about  such 
matters,)  when  they  were  shopping  with  a  bride-elect, 


THE    SOUTHERNER    AT    HOME.  361 

attended  by  a  handsome  young  man,  and  half  in  love  with 
him  myself? 

I  do  not  mean  Isabel's  affianc^  Isidore,  but  a  friend 
of  his,  who  escorted  us;  for  Isidore  is  too  diffident  to  go 
a-shopping  with  Bel,  on  such  an  occasion.     Now,  having 

told  you  the  secret,  Mr. ,  you  are  not  surprised.     I 

feel  confident  that  my  head  was  a  little  giddy,  and  that 
I  mistook  my  notes  about  one  railway  at  one  end  of  the 
city,  jotted  down  when  I  came  from  a  day's  trip  to  Pass 
Christian  for  those  made  for  the  other  railway  at  the 
other  end ;  and  I  trust  that  this  explanation  will  make 
me  friends  with  your  correspondent.  And  talking  of 
such  contributors  to  your  columns,  pray  who  is  "Nico- 
lene?"  She  writes  with  taste  to  be  sure,  and  does  me 
great  honor,  in  her  graceful  humility,  to  furnish  such 
exquisitely  woven  threads  for  my  "Needles."  But  I  do 
her  injustice  to  call  them  thread — they  are  the  finest 
silken  floss  of  the  richest  and  most  brilliant  tints.  How 
intimately  one  can  know  an  unknown  one  by  means  of 
the  magic  press  !  This  "Nicolene"  and  I  are  already 
friends,  stitched  as  closely  together  as  twin-sisters,  by 
means  of  our  "Thread  and  Needle."  Shall  we  ever 
meet  in  this  green  world  under  the  sunny  blue  sky,  hand 
in  hand,  and  friendly  eye  looking  into  friendly  eye?  or 
if  not,  and  we  cross  one  another's  bright  path  in  celestial 
fields,  shall  we  know  who  one  another  is ;  and  shall  we 
then  be  to  the  other  as  the  "thread"  to  the  "needle:" 
two  but  one  in  aim,  and  in  all  things  ? 

Perhaps,  too,  I  have  many  friends — many  kindred 
spirits,  who  have  become  acquainted  with  me  through 
my  "Needles."  I  sometimes  love  to  fancy  myself  visit- 
ing, incognita,  some  of  the  firesides  where  they  are  read, 


THE    SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

and  where  I  am  loved  through  them;*  and  to  imagine 
the  dear  welcome  I  should  receive  from  smiling  eyes  and 
pressing  hands,  when  I  told  them  who  I  was.  Thus,  my 
dear  sir,  my  pen  has  become  to  me  the  key  to  open  many 
hearts,  who  think  and  speak  of  me,  as  if  they  had  seen 
and  talked  with  me  face  to  face.  They  will  continue  to 
be  my  friends,  forever,  and  I  to  be  theirs ;  so  that  I  have 
two  sets  of  friends  in  the  world ;  those  whom  I  have  seen, 
and  whose  voices  are  familiar  to  my  ear;  and  those 
whose  forms,  whose  faces,  whose  voices,  whose  names, 
whose  homes  on  earth,  are  all  unknown  to  me !  To  them 
I  send  love  and  greeting.  To  them  I  send  wishes  of 
happiness  and  heaven ;  for  them  my  prayers  ascend ;  to- 
wards them  my  pleasantest  thoughts  wander,  when  in 
the  still  twilight  I  give  them  free  wing  over  the  shadowy, 
half-star-lit  world. 

In  this  letter,  dear  Mr. ,  I  meant  to  have  given 

you  a  description  of  the  great  preparations  which  are 
making  for  Isabel's  bridal,  which  takes  place  on  Thurs- 
day morning  next;  but  I  have  not  time  now,  everybody 
is  hurrying  everybody  so ;  for  one  comes  and  urges  me 
to  lay  down  my  pen,  and  entwine  a  wreath  of  flowers  for 
some  statuette;  or  another  runs  and  asks  me  my  opinion 
of  such  an  ornament  for  the  chandeliers;  Isabel  sends 
the  pretty  golden  skinned  slave,  Emma,  to  ask  me  if  she 
ought  to  wear  any  rings  at  all  during  the  ceremony,  and 
which,  one  or  ones?  and  then  my  taste  is  in  demand  for 
the  best  mode  of  dressing  the  chancel  of  the  little  gothic 
chapel,  where  the  ceremony  is  to  take  place;  and  what 
with  trying  to  keep  Isidore  within  proper  decorum,  con- 

*  A  great  number  of  letters  and  poems  were  addressed  to  the 
authoress. — Editor. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  36S 

sidering  he  is  soon  to  become  a  grave  husband,  and  show- 
ing Aunt  Chloe  how  to  frost  cake  "  Bosting-way,"  as 
she  calls  it,  I  have  enough  to  do ;  so  good  bye  for  this 

day,  good  Mr. .     In  a  day  or  two  you  shall  have 

full  particulars  of  the  wedding. 

Your  true  friend, 

Kate. 


364  THE   BUNNY  SOUTH;   OR, 


LETTER    XLVII. 

Chateau  de  Clery,  La. 


Dear  Mr.  : 

The  wedding  of  Isabel  had  like  to  have  been  put  oflf 
for  at  least  a  whole  month,  just  for  a  point  of  etiquette ! 
And  what  do  you  suppose  it  was  ? 

Why,  you  know,  that  my  sweet  pupil,  Isabel,  who  for 
two  years  past  has  grown  into  the  charming  grace  of  in- 
tellectual womanhood  under  my  eye,  had  captivated  the 
calm,  elegant,  retiring  Isidore  de  Clery,  while  on  a  visit 
at  his  father's  with  her  own  father,  Colonel  Peyton. 
When  it  was  perceived  that  lovers  they  were,  and  mar- 
ried they  would  be,  why  the  dear,  good  colonel  gave  his 
consent,  and  proposed  that  the  party  should  go  to  the 
city  to  purchase  the  wedding  dresses,  jewelry,  and  ever 
so  many  and  so  forths ! 

Of  course  Bel  did  not  object;  M.  de  Clery,  senior,  did 
not  object,  but  was  perfectly  enraptured  at  the  prospect 
of  having  such  a  lovely  daughter-in-law;  and  Isidore  did 
not  object  by  any  means.  So  the  wedding,  it  was  de- 
cided, should  take  place  at  the  Chateau  de  Clery. 

But  now,  only  think  of  the  tyrannies  of  fashionable 

propriety,  Mr. !    After  we  had  returned  from  New 

Orleans  to  the  Chateau,  a  certain  very  precise,  very 
starch,  very  ancient  old  lady  aunt,  who  was  invited  from 
her  sugar  estate  to  the  Avedding,  took  it  into  her  antiquated 


THE    SOUXnERNER   AT   HOME.  36S 

head  "that  it  was  most  becoming  for  young  maidens 
to  be  married  (wheresomever  they  may  be  courted)  at 
their  paternal  mansion ;  and  that  it  would  not  be  comnie 
il  faut  if  Isabel  were  married  at  the  house  of  the  father 
of  her  intended  husband !  that  the  bridegroom  should  go 
to  the  house  of  the  bride  elect  after  his  bride,  and  take 
her  home! — at  least  that  was  the  custom  in  her  day!" 

which  was  entre  nous,  Mr.  ,  when  three  brothers, 

named  Shem,  Ham,  and  Japhet,  got  their  wives,  I  am 
qujte  satisfied. 

nNow  to  the  plain  Tennessee  manners  of  the  colonel, 
to  the  unsophisticated  ignorance  of  poor  Isabel,  to  the 
want  of  savoir  faire,  pardonable  in  a  Green  IV^ountaiu 
Yankee  girl,  this  idea  never  occurred  to  us  before/  The 
old  aunt's  brocade  and  farthingale  notions  prevailed  over 
the  better  sense  of  the  colonel,  and  he  absolutely  told 
Bel  that  she  had  best  be  married  at  home,  in  Tennessee, 
and  that  we  would  return  on  purpose  for  the  next  boat ! 

Bel  came  to  me  with  her  large,  glorious,  brown  eyes, 
overrunning  with  tears,  and  told  me  all.  I  was  sur- 
prised and  indignant.  I  wished  all  meddlesome  antedi- 
luvian aunts  a  league  beyond  sundown,  and  telling  Bel  I 
would  see  what  I  could  do  for  her,  and  not  to  spoil  her 
pretty  eyes  with  crying,  I  left  my  room  and  went  to  the 
colonel.  On  the  way,  in  the  salon,  I  encountered  Isi- 
dore. His  face  was  pale,  and  his  whole  aspect  perfectly 
wretched  with  an  expression  of  despair.  He  met  me 
with  extended  hands. 

"  SAveet,  good  Kate,  you  must  reverse  our  fate  !  You 
can  do  any  thing  you  attempt.  Influence  the  colonel  to 
change  his  mind.  It  is  absurd !  Why  can  we  not  be 
married  at  my  father's  as  well  as  at  Bel's?     I  wish  her 


866  THE   SUNNY  SOUTH;   OR, 

aunt  had  been  blown  up "  (no — not  so  bad  as  that," 

I  said,  putting  my  finger  on  his  lips)  "  well,  sunk  to  the 
bottom  of  the  Mississippi  ei'e  she  had  come  here  to  mar 
our  felicity.  For  Bel's  sake,  as  well  as  mine,  do  some- 
thing in  our  behalf!" 

I  promised  Isidore  I  would  see  what  could  be  done, 

*and,  followed  by  his  blessings,  I  sought  Colonel  Peyton, 

whom  I  found  walking  up  and  down  the  piazza  on  the 

shady  side  of  the  house,  looking  as  gloomy  as  if  he  had 

the  toothache. 

"  Well,  Kate,  I  see  you  have  heard  the  news,"  he  said, 
approaching  me.  "  Bel  will  cry  her  eyes  out,  and  Isi- 
dore will  blow  out  his  brains !  But,  bless  me,  what  could 
I  do  ?  There  is  my  precise  sister,  with  her  old,  Revolu- 
tionary-War notions,  says  it  will  be  '  an  absolute  scan- 
dal' if  I  suflFer  Bel  to  be  married  here,  and  that  such  a 

thing  was  never  heard  of,  and  that — that — the — d ! 

would  generally  be  to  pay  — ■ — ." 

("Fie,  colonel!"  I  said,  trying  to  stop  the  word  at 
the  syllable,  but  it  was  no  use — out  it  came  with  a  hearti- 
ness that  was  resistless.) 

"  Well,  Kate,  it  is  enough  to  make  old  General  Taylor 
swear!" 

"What  does  Monsieur  de  Clery  say?"  I  asked. 

"  He,  you  know,  is  so  excessively  polite  that  he  can't 
gainsay  a  woman,  so  he  bows,  and  bows,  and  smiles,  and 
outwardly  acquiesces  to  my  sister,  while  I  very  well  know 
he  would  be  most  happy  to  administer  chloroform  to  her 
for  the  next  nine  days  to  come.  But,  if  scandal  is  to 
come  of  it,  Bel  must  be  married  at  home,  as  I  have  told 
her.     Confound  fashion,  Kate." 

Here  the  colonel  gave  such  a  petulant  fling  to  his 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  367 

cigar,  that  it  went  like  a  rocket  through  the  air,  and 
lighted  upon  the  thick  woolly  pate  of  old  Aunt  Elise, 
igniting  the  unctuous  crisp  to  the  sudden  consternation 
of  the  old  dame,  Avho  screeched  so  loudly,  with  her  apron 
over  her  head,  and  ran  so  madly,  yelling  "  Fire  !"  that 
the  colonel  burst  into  laughter,  and  his  anger  evaporated, 
for  he  is  too  good-natured  to  hold  ill-humor. 

"  Well,  Kate,  I  will  be  guided  by  your  good  sense, 
and  if  it  offends  my  sister  we  must  bear  the  brunt. 
What  do  you  propose  in  order  to  keep  these  lovers  from 
dying  with  despair  ?  for,  I  confess,  that  to  put  off  a  mar- 
riage a  whole  month,  which  was  to  take  place  to-morrow 
night,  is  a  pretty  trying  affair;  don't  you  think  so?" 

"  I  do  not  know  any  thing  about  such  matters,"  I  an- 
swered, very  quickly ;  "  but  if  the  good  lady  is  not  to 
be  pacified,  I  propose  that  you  suggest  to  M.  de  Clery 
that  he  invest  you  with  the  proprietorship  of  Chateau 
de  Clery  for  a  day  or  so.  Do  you  understand  me, 
colonel?" 

"  Upon  my  word  I  do  not,  Kate,"  he  answered,  thought- 
fully. 

"  I  understand  her,  colonel,"  responded  the  cheery 
voice  of  M.  de  Clery,  who  overheard  me,  and  now  joined 
us.     "It  is  a  good  idea.     Bon,  bon!" 

"  A  good  idea  will  be  the  most  acceptable  to  me  just 
now,"  answered  the  colonel,  with  a  blank  look.  "What 
would  Miss  Kate  be  at?" 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  offend  so  respectable  a  person  as 
Madame,  your  sister,"  said  M.  de  Clery,  with  a  smile, 
"  and  as  her  prejudices  touching  where  a  Demoiselle  should 
be  married  are  not  to  be  easily  overcome,  I  herewith  in- 
vest you,  my  dear  colonel,  for  three  days,  with  the  sole 


368  THE  SUNNY  south;  or, 

si 
proprietorship  of  this  chateau,  servants,  and  all  it  con-   1 

tains,  and  for  that  period,  Isidore  and  I  will  have  the 

honor  of  being  your  happy  guests  !" 

At  this  the  colonel  burst  into  a  hearty  laugh,  and, 
shaking  M.  de  Clery  by  both  hands,  turned  to  me  and    | 
kissed  me,  looking  the  uproarious  picture  of  satisfaction 
and  delight,  and  began  calling  for  "Bel,"  at  the  top  of 
his  voice !  \ 

The  matter  was  soon  arranged.     Bel  smiled  again,    | 
like  an  April  sun  coming  out  from  behind  showery  clouds ; 
Isidore  said  I  deserved  to  be  married  to  an  emperor, 
and  the  colonel  would  have  kissed  me  again,  if  I  hadn't    | 
adroitly  glided  from  the  reach  of  his  hospitable  arm.    I 
The  prim  aunt  was  but  half  and  half  content.     She  some- 
how felt  as  if  somebody  had  been  whipped  around  the 
stump  for  her  especial  benefit;  "she  couldn't  exactly 
see  how  it  was,  but  she  hoped  it  was  proper." 

It  would  have  amused  you,  Mr. ,  to  have  seen 

how  amazed  the  servants  were  when  they  saw  the  cha- 
teau so  suddenly  change  hands.  M.  de  Clery  resigning 
his  place  at  the  table  to  the  colonel,  and  all  giving  of 
orders.  It  was  a  merry  time  we  had,  and  all  was  car- 
ried forward  with  commendable  gravity,  greatly  to  the 
edification  of  the  antiquated  lady,  who  presided  at  the 
tea-table,  with  inexpressible  majesty. 

To-night  the  wedding  takes  place.  All  are  in  a  flutter 
and  excitement.  You  would  think  every  soul  on  the  place, 
black  and  white,  was  going  to  be  married,  instead  of  the 
blushing,  trembling,  trying-to-be-composed-Isabel.  Such 
showing  of  ivories,  on  red  and  black  ground,  from  hall 
to  kitchen,  such  Ethiopian  merriment,  such  good  humor 
and  activity  generally,  never  was  before. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  369 

One  servant  runs  to  the  garden  to  gather  bouquets  for 
the  pier-tables  and  mantles ;  another  gathers  ripe  fruits ; 
another  wreathes  floAvers;  another  goes  by  laden  with 
frosted  cakes ;  another  flies  this  way ;  and  another  that ; 
till  all  know  not  whether  they  are  on  their  head  or  their 
heels.  For  my  part,  I  never  was  more  excited,  and  don't 
believe  that  if  I  were  going  to  be  married  myself,  I 
should  be  half  so  fluttered,  and  my  heart  so  tumultuous. 

Yet  with  all  my  joy  for  Bel,  there  is  mingled  inex- 
pressible sadness !  To  night  she  ceases  to  be  my  beloved 
pupil — to  night  she  is  no  longer  her  father's,  but  an- 
other 8 !  The  fond,  paternal  arms  which  have  encircled 
her  for  so  many  years  in  prideful  afi"ection,  are  to  be  re- 
placed by  those  of  a  stranger.  Every  relation  which  she 
has  held  to  those  she  has  loved,  will,  to-night,  change ! 
She  passes  from  us  to  revolve  in  another  orbit,  around 
another  sun  than  that  which  has  warmed  and  lighted  the 
world  of  her  young  heart. 

Ah,  what  a  risk  a  young  girl  runs  to  marry !  What  a 
lottery  is  wedlock !  How  untried,  until  he  is  tried,  the 
man  for  whom  she  so  courageously  and  confidingly  leaves 
father,  mother,  brothers,  sisters,  home,  and  all  things 
familiar  and  fondly  loved !  Will  he  be  to  her  all  these  ? 
Will  he  weigh  down  in  life's  unequal  scales  even  weight 
with  these  ?  But  I  will  not  moralize !  Blessings  be  on 
the  pure  head  of  dear  Isabel !  She  is  noble  and  worthy  to 
be  happy ;  and  may  all  that  heaven  loves  to  shower  on  its 
favored  ones  fall  upon  her  through  life.  Be  fragrant 
flowers  about  her  path,  and  singing  birds  around  her 
steps,  and  pleasant  skies  above  her.  My  blessings  go 
with  thee,  my  prayers  surround  thee,  dearest  girl ! 
And  thou,  lordly  Isidore !  strong  and  manly  in  thy 
24 


870  THE    SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

princely  beauty,  take  this  gentle  dove  into  thy  bosom, 
and  shelter  it  with  thy  tenderest  care !  The  tendrils  of 
the  fragile  vine,  that  thou  hast  unclasped  from  the  pater- 
nal oak,  teach  kindly  to  enfold  about  thy  own  heart, 
each  sustaining  and  binding  one  to  the  other  in  an  im- 
perishable union ! 

Good  bye,  Mr. , 

Kate. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  871 


LETTER    XLVII. 

Dear  Mr. : 

Isabel  is  married !  My  dear  pupil  is  to-day  hailed 
with  the  matronly  and  dignified  title  of  Madame  Isidore 
de  Clery.  The  wedding  took  place  yesterday  evening, 
at  4  o'clock,  in  the  little  brick  chapel,  which  nestles  in  a 
grove  of  sycamores,  a  mile  from  the  chateau. 

As  I  know  you  men  have  a  great  deal  of  curiosity 
about  everything,  though  you  try  and  hide  it,  as  well  as 
you  can,  behind  the  shadow  of  your  beards,  I  will  give 
you  some  account  of  the  ceremony,  and  how  it  came  off. 

The  day  was  as  fine  as  if  it  were  the  first  day  that 
morning  had  ever  broken  upon,  the  skies  were  of  so 
"heavenly  a  blue,"  as  Mrs.  Hemans  describes  the  pecu- 
liar azure  of  the  cerulean  and  transparent  autumnal  at- 
mosphere. There  was  but  one  cloud  visible,  which  floated 
over  the  east,  like  a  bridal  scarf,  graceful  and  undula- 
ting, as  if  borne  onward  by  a  company  of  invisible  fairies, 
by  and  by  to  descend  and  cast  it  over  "the  bride  of  the 
day."  The  birds,  all  of  them,  blue  and  gray,  orange- 
colored  and  scarlet,  brown  and  black,  were  all  on  tho 
wing,  and  singing  quite  beside  themselves,  as  if  they 
well  knew  there  was  a  grand  holiday. 

The  little  army  of  sable  urchins,  that  always  appertain 
to  a  planter's  domestic  establishment,  were  arrayed  in 
their  "  Sunday  best,"  and  with  great  fragments  of  corn 


872  THE  SUNNY  south;  or, 

bread,  sweetened  with  molasses,  in  their  hands,  were 
tumbling,  rolling,  somerseting,  galloping  over  the  green, 
and  as  generally  beside  themselves  with  joy,  as  the  birds 
were.  Then  all  the  dogs — Tray,  Blanche,  Sweetheart, 
and  old  Bonus — seemed  to  have  inhaled  exhilarating  gas. 
Such  wagging  of  tails  short,  tails  long,  tails  shaggy,  and 
tails  genteel!  such  extravagant  demonstrations  of  joy 
were  never  before  known  among  the  canine  family  of  the 
chateau.  Every  particular  dog  seemed  to  delight  him- 
self in  chasing  his  own  tail  around  and  around  a  circle, 
»nd  the  whole  yard  seemed  to  be  converted  into  a  sort 
t  r  animated  orrery,  the  orbits  in  which  they  revolved 
/i  iving  old  Bonus  for  their  central  sun,  and  Bonus,  like 
the  sun,  made  slow  and  majestic  revolutions  on  his  axis, 
and,  unlike  the  sun,  would  once  in  a  while  elevate  his 
toothless  jaws,  and,  opening  his  huge  mouth,  send  forth 
towards  the  heavens  a  doleful  and  horrible  howl.  Poor 
Bonus !  it  was  his  best.  He  would  have  yelped  and 
laughed,  like  the  younger  dogs,  if  he  could;  but  all  that 
he  could  do  towards  approaching  a  proper  expression  of 
the  common  joy  were  the  hoarse,  guttural  notes,  which 
from  time  to  time  reached  the  ears  of  Isabel,  and  made 
her  turn  pale  with  apprehension.  "It  is  an  evil  omen, 
dear  Kate,"  she  said,  trying  to  laugh. 

"It  is  old  Bonus'  best  mode  age  has  left  him  to  hail 
your  bridal  day,"  I  answered.  "You  should  take  it  as 
a  compliment  from  the  old  dog,  Bel.  Hear  him!  It 
does  sound  wofully  doleful,  but  let  it  not  annoy  you.  I 
will  have  him  muzzled.  But  pardon  his  unusual  excite- 
ment, considering  the  occasion." 

But  Bel  was  troubled,  and  I  had  to  order  Pierre  to 
put  a  muzzle  on  the  howling  patriarch;  and  no  sooner 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  873 

had  he  oheyed,  than  all  the  little  dogs  ceased  their  revo- 
lutions after  their  tails,  and  came  and  stood  around  him, 
gazing  upon  him  with  looks  of  curiosity  and  canine  sym- 
pathy, and  evidently  were  doing  their  best  respectfully 
to  console  the  old  patriarch. 

Noon  at  length  passed,  and  I  went  in  the  carriage  to 
the  chapel,  to  see  if  it  were  all  dressed  for  the  bridal. 

On  the  way  I  met  Dr.   S ,  the  clergyman,  in  his 

black  coat  and  white  stock,  jogging  along  on  a  big, 
handsome  mule,  which  was  his  favorite  riding  horse. 

"Good  day.  Miss  Conynghame,"  he  said,  bowing  with 
courteous  kindness.  "You  will  find  the  chapel  all  ar- 
ranged with  taste,  by  my  daughters,  and  several  other 
maidens.     How  is  Miss  Peyton  ?  " 

"Well,  sir,"  I  answered.  "Isidore  was  wishing  to 
see  you,  to  ask  some  questions  about  what  he  should  say 
and  do  in  the  ceremony." 

"Yes,  yes,"  he  said,  smilingly.  "Young  people  feel 
a  little  nervous  at  such  times.  I  must  drill  him  to  the 
tactics  for  the  day.     Good-bye." 

So  he  thrust  his  left  heel  thrice  into  the  left  flank  of 
his  mule  "Columbus,"  and  went  pacing  oflFup  the  Levee 
road,  at  an  enormous  gait. 

I  soon  came  in  sight  of  the  chapel.  It  was  prettily 
and  rurally  situated,  in  a  fine  grove,  a  hundred  and  fifty 
rods  from  the  road.  It  faced  the  river,  and,  with  its 
little  cemetery  about  it,  glittering  with  white  marble 
monuments,  formed  a  picturesque  feature  in  the  scenery. 
But  all  was  beautiful  everywhere  the  eye  fell,  the  whole 
mile  from  the  chateau  to  the  chapel,  and  for  leagues  be- 
low it.  The  river  road  was  bordered  with  gardens, 
and  villas,  and  lawns,  and  groves,  on  one  side,  and  on 


374  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OK, 

the  other  was  the  green  elevation  of  the  Levee,  with  the 
ever-rolling  tide  of  the  dark  brown  flood  of  the  Missis- 
sippi, the  other  side  of  it;  while  upon  its  broad  bosom 
were  pleasure  boats,  and  row-boats,  crossing  this  way 
and  that — fishermen  suspended  motionless  above  the 
deep,  in  their  light  red  canoes,  and  in  the  distance,  the 
majestic  forms  of  ascending  and  descending  steamers 
marked  their  paths  above  the  trees  by  long  trains  of 
dark,  chocolate-colored  smoke.  All  was  beautiful  and 
grand,  with  the  splendid  sun  shining  obliquely  down  on 
all,  tesselating  land  and  water  with  a  mammoth  mosaic 
of  light  and  shadow,  copying  on  the  ground,  "in  shade," 
the  forms  of  all  things  it  shone  upon. 

The  little  chapel  is  an  ancient  and  very  small  edifice, 
brown  and  ivy-grown,  with  signs  of  age  in  its  steep, 
moss-covered  roof,  and  weather-brown  doors.  It  has 
two  narrow  painted  windows,  on  each  side,  a  triple- 
lancet  window  above  the  chancel,  and  a  lower  one  oddly 
shaped,  surmounted  by  a  red  spire,  crowned  by  a  cross, 
which  had  once  been  gilt,  but  was  now  bronzed  by  ex- 
posure. Two  immense  sycamores  stood  before  the  low 
Gothic  door  of  the  tower,  and  rising  far  in  the  air,  spread 
their  broad,  white  arms  protectingly  above  it ;  while  in 
their  rear  grew  elms,  and  a  majestic  live-oak,  that  over- 
shadowed the  altar-window,  and  a  lowly  grave  beneath. 
Shade,  repose,  and  holy  seclusion  marked  the  spot. 
One  might  forget  there,  it  would  seem,  that  around, 
though  out  of  sight,  rolled  the  great  wicked  world,  and 
that  sin  was  but  a  dream  of  the  past,  but  for  the  graves 
about,  and  the  recollection  of  the  fearful  words,  "Death 
came  by  sin." 

Yes,  even  there,  in  that  sweet,  secluded,  shut-out  spot 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT    HOME.  375 

of.peace,  the  graves — whicli  added  to  its  solemn  beauty, 
and  gave  it  an  air  of  repose — spoke  of  sin!  No — no- 
where on  earth  can  we  escape  the  presence  of  it,  or  of 
its  memorials  :  it  is  only  in  that  bright  world,  beyond 
the  glittering  constellations  that  pave  the  floor  of  the 
"mansions  of  God,"  that  peace  and  sinlessness  are 
known.     "  There  shall  be  no  more  sin." 

All  things  on  earth  speak  of  death.  Its  sable  seal  is 
impressed  upon  everything  below.  The  flower  buds, 
blooms,  diffuses  its  fragrance,  and  withers  away.  This 
is  death.  The  lordly  oak  decays  with  age,  and  falls  to 
mingle  with  the  dust  from  which  it  sprung :  and  this  is 
death !  The  day  fades  into  twilight,  and  loses  itself  in 
the  shades  of  night :  and  this  is  death !  The  green  spring, 
which  blooms  through  all  the  summer,  in  autumn  turns 
gray  and  sear,  and  casts  its  dry  leaves  upon  the  earth : 
and  this  is  death !  The  new  moon  fulls,  and  wanes,  and 
ceases  to  shine :  and  this  is  death !  The  stars  leave  their 
spheres,  glitter  for  a  brilliant  moment,  and  disappear  in 
darkness :  and  this  is  death ! 

The  seal  of  death  is  truly  impressed  upon  all  things 
beneath  the  shining  sun.  "  Nothing  remains  in  one  stay." 
Even  the  nuptial  vow  before  the  altar  was  echoed  from 
the  white  marble  monuments  of  the  dead,  that  glared 
in|o  the  windows  upon  the  bridal. 

But,  my  dear  sir,  this  is  a  sad  conclusion  for  a  letter 
upon  a  "wedding."  But  it  is  the  reflection  of  the  sha- 
dow upon  my  heart.  Isabel's  marriage  has  made  me 
weep  more  than  smile,  for  she  is  lost  to  me,  and  ere  many 
days  elapse,  we  separate — perhaps  forever. 

In  my  next,  Mr. ,  I  will  describe  the  wedding,  for 

really  I  have  no  heart  to  do  it  to-day. 


THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 


LETTER    XLIX. 

New  Orleans,  La. 


Dear  Mr. : 

In  this  letter  I  will  redeem  my  promise,  to  write  a 
description  of  the  wedding  at  Chateau  de  Clery.  We  are 
now — the  whole  wedding-party — in  this  city,  waiting  for 
the  Crescent  City,  in  which  we  are  to  emhark  by  way  of 
Havana  for  New  York. 

The  hour  for  the  nuptials  was  4  o'clock  on  Thursday 
last.  At  half  past  three,  the  cortSge,  in  four  open  car- 
riages, started  from  the  villa  for  the  chapel,  a  mile  down 
the  river-road.  There  were  outriders,  young  gentlemen 
of  the  vicinity,  on  prancing  steeds,  and  at  least  two  hun- 
dred well-dressed  slaves  following  on  foot,  and  in  the 
greatest  glee.  The  scene,  the  Levee-road  exhibited,  was 
novel  and  interesting,  with  its  varied  population  and  gay 
apparel, — for  the  negro  women  invariably  wore  scarlet, 
or  orange-colored,  or  sky-blue  headker chiefs,  and  the 
men  sported  red  or  yellow  waistcoats. 

Isabel  and  her  father,  Isidore  and  myself,  rode  in  the 
first  barouche.  The  bride  looked  charmingly,  arrayed 
in  the  richest  white,  embroidered  crape,  with  a  coronet 
of  pearls  upon  her  brow,  and  bracelets,  and  necklace  of 
pearls.  Over  her  head  was  thrown  a  veil  of  the  purest 
Mechlin  lace,  as  superbly  elegant  as  if  woven  of  silver 
gossamer  and  lilies  interwined.    She  looked  80  happy,  and 


THE   SOUTUEKNER    AT   JIO.ME.  377 

yet  trembled  so,  that  I  thought  one  might  compare  mar- 
rying to  being  drowned  in  Cologne- water,  or  hanged  with 

I  a  perfumed  cambric  handkerchief!  Isidore  also  looked 
deadly  pale,  and  then  fearfully  rubicund,  and  said,  in  that 
short  ride  of  a  mile,  more  silly  things  than,  I  dare  say, 
he  will  say  again,  if  he  lives  to  be  as  old  as  Methusaleh. 

;  Isabel  kept  silent,  and  feared  to  meet  his  eyes,  which  I 
observed  he  never  took  off  of  her. 

How  simple  going  to  be  married  makes  a  person  look  ! 
I  am  glad  that  I  have  yet  escaped  this  nonsense,  Mr. 

.     By  the  way,  the  handsome  young  man  whom  I 

saw  in  New  Orleans  on  our  former  visit,  intends  taking 
passage  in  the  Crescent  City  to  New  York.  He  is  cer- 
tainly a  very  modest  and  unassuming  person,  to  be  so 
handsome  and  wealthy  as  he  is; — and  so  intelligent  and 

highly  educated.     If  I  ever  marry,  Mr. ,  (dear  me ! 

what  am  I  writing  about  ?  Oh  !  Isabel's  wedding !  Peo- 
ple can't  always  keep  from  having  wandering  thoughts, 
though  one  prays  never  so  hard  against  them). 

As  I  was  saying,  Isabel  looked  very  lovely  and  was 
very  silent.  Old  Bonus  suddenly  was  heard  howling 
behind,  trying,  with  all  the  other  dogs  of  the  family,  to 
keep  up  with  the  carriages.  This  doleful  sound  made 
her  look  uneasy,  and  she  glanced  at  me.  At  this  mo- 
ment, the  coachman,  in  giving  his  long,  new  whip  a  flourish 
at  some  tame  doves  in  the  road,  accidentally  curled  the 
green  silken  lash  about  the  neck  of  one  of  them,  and, 
with  the  backward  movement  of  his  hand,  it  came  into 
the  carriage  and  directly  into  Isabel's  lap  !  It  was  as 
Avhite  as  the  driven  snow,  with  a  pink  bill,  and  olive- 
brown  eyes.  It  was  dreadfully  frightened,  but  Isabel, 
who  looked  upon  it  as  a  good  omen  against  the  bowlings 


i 


378  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

of  old  Bonus,  smiled,  and  drew  it  to  her  bosom  soothingly, 
stroking  its  cream-pure  plumage  with  her  white-gloved 
hand.  We  all  pronounced  it  a  "good  omen,"  and  Isi- 
dore said,  *'  he  would  have  a  cage  of  gold  made  for  it, 
put  rings  on  its  fingers  and  bells  on  its  toes,  and  it  should 
have  music  wherever  it  goes." 

We  all  laughed  at  this  absurd  speech  of  Isidore,  know- 
ing that  he  was  too  happy  in  his  foolishness  to  know 
what  he  said,  and  he  had  wits  enough  left  to  laugh,  also 
when  he  reflected  a  moment. 

"Never  mind,"  said  the  colonel,  "it  is  his  wedding 
day ;  and  the  most  sensible  men  then  sometimes  play  the 
fool."  „„, 

Isidore  smilingly  bowed  to  the  compliment,  and  we 
drove  up  to  the  church,  the  dove  being  transferred  to  the 
possession  of  the  footman,  who  had  instructions,  both 
from  Isidore  and  Bel,  to  keep  it  with  the  tenderest 
care,  and  take  it  to  the  chateau  after  the  wedding  was 
over. 

We  found  the  front  of  the  church  thronged  with  the 
guests,  and  in  the  background,  the  groups  of  curious  and 
happy  servants,  that  mingle  in  all  Southern  scenes.  But 
how  shall  I  describe  to  you  the  unlooked  for  reception 
of  the  bride  before  the  church ! 

The  carriage  stopped  at  the  outer  gate,  fifty  yards 
from  the  entrance  of  the  chapel.  The  gravel  path  was 
lined  with  twenty-four  young  girls,  dressed  in  pure  white, 
each  having  a  wreath  of  white  blossoms  in  her  hair. 
Each  maiden  carried  a  basket,  filled  with  the  leaves  of 
roses — heaped  up.  At  the  gate  stood  two  tall,  lovely 
girls,  holding  aloft  an  arch  wreathed  with  flowers  in  the 
most  magnificent  manner. 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  979 

Beneath  this  arch  the  bride  and  bridegroom  passed, 
and  as  they  moved  onward,  the  twenty-four  maidens  pre- 
ceded them  and  strewed  the  way  with  rose-leaves,  so  that 
Isabel's  foot  touched  not  the  earth,  only  flowers  from  the 
gate  to  the  chapel.  Before  the  door  stood  two  other 
maidens,  holding  a  chain  of  flowers,  and,  as  the  bride 
and  groom  passed  between  them,  they  encircled  them  in 
one  flowery  bond.  Within  the  vestibule  stood  a  beautiful 
girl,  who  held  two  crowns  in  her  hands,  one  of  laurel- 
leaves,  the  other  of  orange  blossoms ;  and  with  them,  she 
preceded  the  bride  and  her  twenty-four  bridesmaids  for 
all  these  lovely  girls  were  Isabel's  voluntary  brides- 
maids. 

Arrived  at  the  chancel,  they  knelt  before  the  altar,  in 
front  of  which  stood  the  venerable  Dr. ,  in  his  sur- 
plice, the  prayer-book  open  at  the  place  "Matrimony." 
The  bridesmaids  knelt,  twelve  on  each  side,  in  brilliant 
crescents;  and  above  their  heads  the  two  tall  graceful 
maidens  held  the  arch  of  flowers. 

The  ceremony,  that  of  the  Episcopal  Church,  was 
deeply  impressive ;  and  as  the  colonel,  who  was  a  Presby- 
terian, said, 

"It  ties  a  couple  together  so  faat  and  firm,  that  a 
blacksmith's  hammer  and  anvil  couldn't  unrivet  them." 

After  the  ceremony,  the  venerable  clergyman  (and  for 
venerable,  very  old  clergymen  it  is  well  enough  perhaps) 
kissed  the  bride;  and,  before  Isidore  could  do  so,  I  had 
her  sweet  cheek ;  and  then  her  father,  and  then  the  four- 
and-twenty  bridesmaids,  "all  in  a  row."  When  Isidore 
at  length  got  his  turn,  I  thought  he  would  never  have 
taken  away  his  naughty  lips  from  her  pretty,  ripe  mouth. 
Dear  me !  what  a  difi'erence  just  marrying  makes ! 


380  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

I  forgot  to  say  that  the  maiden  who  held  the  wreath, 
crowned  the  pair  as  they  rose  from  their  knees.  The 
"happy  couple"  had  no  sooner  left  the  church,  than  the 
maidens  commenced  a  lively  chaunt ;  the  slaves  crowded 
round,  and  showered  blessings  on  "handsome  massa  and 
missis;"  the  birds  in  the  old  sycamores  sang  more 
noisily  and  sweetly,  and  twenty  times  more  lively  than 
ever  before ;  the  little  dogs  scampered  and  yelled  with 
joy,  running  under  every  lady's  feet ;  old  Bonus  howled 
most  appallingly  in  his  efforts  to  bark  his  compliments ; 
and  the  very  horses  of  the  carriage  into  which  Isidore 
and  Isabel  stepped,  tossed  their  small  heads  more  proudly, 
pricked  their  delicate  triangular  ears  with  vanity,  and 
arched  their  necks  with  infinite  pretension. 

They  were  but  a  few  minutes,  the  beautiful  stag-hoofed 
bays,  in  conveying  us  back  to  the  chateau,  at  which  the  ^! 
whole  wedding-party  alighted,  just  as  the  sun  went  down 
in  a  peai-1-shell  sky.     A  superb  wedding-dinner,   at   7     i 
o'clock,  came  off,  in  a  magnificently  lighted  hall,  with   "! 
sixty  guests,  planters,  their  wives  and  daughters,  from 
the  neighboring  estates,  two-thirds  of  whom  were  French, 
which  language  was  almost  wholly  spoken  at  the  table. 
In  the  evening  there  was  a  grand  ball,  in  a  true  Creole 
style,  with  a  great  deal  of   dancing    and    imbibing  of 
champagne.     Afusilade  of  corks  was  kept  up  with  great 
spirit  till  midnight;  arrows  were  shot  from  black  eyes 
into  exposed  hearts ;  and  there  was  a  great  taking  captive   |j 
of  unsophisticated  youth.     Every  orange-bower  echoed 
softly  Avith  the  whispers  of  some  stolen  away  pair;   the 
recesses  of  the  piazza  betrayed  gentle  forms  half  en-    If 
circled  by  a  manly  arm ;  and — but  I  won't  tell  tales,  Mr. 
,  for  I  should  tell  one  on  myself — for  the  elegant 


THE   SOUTHERNER  AT  HOME.  381 

young  French  gentleman,  from  New  Orelans,  was  at  the 
wedding,  and  somehow  or  other  I  saw  a  good  deal  of 
him  in  the  course  of  the  evening,  and  we  had  a  charming 
walk  together  on  the  hanks  of  the  dark,  star-lit  river ! 

Well,  the  third  day  after  the  wedding,  we  all  started 
for  New  Orleans,  where  we  are  now.  We  embark  to- 
morrow for  New  York  in  the  Crescent  City.  After  a 
brief  stay  there,  M.  Isidore  de  Clery  and  his  fair  bride 
proceed  to  Europe  by  the  steamer.  They  have  invited 
me  to  accompany  them,  but  my  mission  is  done.  Isabel 
is  no  longer  a  pupil — at  least  not  mine ;  how  much  soever 
she  may  be  her  husband's — (for  I  believe  all  young  wives 
are,  for  the  first  two  or  three  years,  under  tutelage,  till 
they  learn  and  fall  into  their  liege  lord's  "ways") — I 
shall  not  undertake  to  say. 

After  they  leave  for  Europe,  I  shall  return  to  my  na- 
tive hills  in  New  Hampshire,  and  settle  down  a  village 
old  maid  of  twenty-two,  and  with  the  reputation,  among 
the  simple  folks,  of  being  a  great  traveler. 

Yours  truly, 

Kate. 


382  THE   SUNNY  SOUTH;    OR, 


Dear  Mr.- 


LETTER   L. 

Hotel,  St.  Louis. 


To-day  we  embark  for  Havana,  that  city  towards 
which  so  many  filibustering  eyes  are  at  this  time  directed. 
The  bustle  and  hurry  of  packing  and  getting  our  trunks 
on  board  is  over,  and  there  are  yet  three  hours  to  spare, 
in  which  quiet  and  a  pen  would  be,  by  contrast  with  the 
turmoil  of  the  hotel,  a  great  luxury.  But  as  I  wrote 
you  only  yesterday,  I  will  use  my  leisure  and  my  pen 
for  the  purpose  of  writing  a  letter  to  my  Yankee  bro- 
ther away  in  the  hills  of  New  Hampshire,  those  glorious 
snow-capped  pillars  of  the  clouds  upon  whose  summits 
the  intellect  of  Webster  has  enkindled  a  blaze  that  shall 
light  the  remotest  posterities.  Wrapped  in  his  senato- 
rial gown,  he  has  laid  down  to  rest  among  the  mighty 
dead  of  the  past,  himself  one  of  the  mightiest  of  them  all. 

But  my  poor  pen  is  too  humble  and  impotent  to  speak 
of  such  a  man.  His  peers  only  should  attempt  it,  and 
where,  at  this  day,  are  they  to  be  looked  for ! 

My  little  brother,  of  whom  I  speak,  is  my  regular 
correspondent,  or  rather  I  write  to  him  regularly,  and  in 
return  I  receive  certain  hieroglyphics  in  the  shape  of 
very  crooked  pot-hooks  and  trammels,  crossed  in  various 
directions  by  bold,  independent  strokes,  which  no  doubt 
show  energy,  but  are  quite  incomprehensible.  In  a  word, 
my  brother  is  too  small  yet  to  know  how  to  write,  but  he 


THE    SOUTHFRXEIl   AT    HOME. 

is  too  gallant  a  little  fellow  to  leave  a  lady's  letter  unan- 
swered, and  so  sends  me  the  best  fist  he  can  achieve. 
As  it  would  gratify  him  very  much  to  have  a  printed  let- 
ter, Mr. ,  I  will  just  write  to  him  through  your 

columns,  and  let  his  sister  read  it  to  him  when  it  reaches 
her. 

"  My  dear  little  Charley  : — There  is  some  satisfac- 
tion and  pleasure  in  writing  to  you,  as  I  know  you  can't 
write  in  return,  and  that  your  little  heart  will  dance  with 
gladness  to  get  a  letter  from  your  sister  Kate  all  in  print. 
You  remember,  Charley,  I  said  to  you,  in  my  last  letter 
from  that  French  gentleman's  house,  Mr.  De  Clery,  that 
the  blue-birds  had  built  a  nest  in  the  piazza.  Now  I 
have  a  story  to  tell  you  about  these  same  birds. 

"  One  day  the  sun  was  shining  very  warm,  and  Isabel 
wanted  to  make  a  grass  wreath  for  the  colonel's  hat,  so 
we  walked  out  to  gather  some  pretty  green  grass,  and  as 
I  walked  along  what  should  I  spy  but  a  little,  tiny  blue- 
bird, that  was  not  old  enough  to  walk  ?  There  he  lay, 
roasting  in  the  hot  sun,  and  no  one  near  him !  Poor 
thing !  he  soon  would  have  died,  but  I  took  him  up,  and 
he  nestled  down  in  my  hand  just  like  a  little  baby  on  its 
mamma's  lap.  I  thought  if  dear  little  Leila,  your  sister, 
should  fall  out  of  doors,  how  grateful  I  should  be  to  any 
one  who  would  take  care  of  her.  So  I  took  the  little 
bird,  and  laid  it  in  the  shade  in  some  nice  grass,  so  that 
its  mother  might  see  it,  and  know  it  was  alive.  I  then 
went  away  a  little  distance  and  watched  it.  After  a 
while  two  old  blue-birds  flew  to  the  tree,  and  began  to 
flutter  and  chirp  in  great  trouble,  and  they  then  talked 
to  each  other,  and  afterwards  I  saw  them  fly  down  on 
the  grass,  and  try  and  coax  the  poor  little  bird  to  follow 


384  THE  SUNNY  south;  or, 

them.  The  father  took  a  worm  in  his  mouth,  and  hop- 
ping down,  fed  it,  and  then  running  away  a  few  steps, 
chirped  and  coaxed,  but  the  little  thing  could  not  fly. 
Then  the  old  bird  went  away,  and  told  his  neighbors  and 
friends  of  his  trouble,  while  the  good  mother  sat  by, 
soothing  and  comforting  her  baby. 

"  In  a  short  time,  the  old  bird  came  back  with  troops 
of  friends — yellow-birds,  robins,  mocking-birds,  orioles, 
sparrows,  and  black-martins.  They  all  took  the  deepest 
interest  in  the  unhappy  little  thing,  and  would  fly  down, 
around  it,  and  over  it,  almost  touching  it  with  their  soft 
wings,  all  the  while  chirping  in  the  greatest  excitement, 
but  the  little  baby -bird  sat  quiet  and  trembling  in  the 
little  bed  of  grass  I  had  put  it  on,  its  eyes  half  closed. 
Then  two  young  blue-birds,  which,  I  guess,  were  its 
cousins,  went  and  gave  him  a  pink-colored  worm,  which 
it  ate  as  if  it  were  very  hungry.  Such  singing  and 
talking  as  were  now  heard  in  the  tree  you  have  no  idea, 
for  new  friends  kept  coming,  and  the  sorrowful  parents 
had  to  tell  each  new  comer  their  pitiful  tale.  I  think, 
dear  Charley,  that  birds  can  talk  as  well  as  children, 
though  we  cannot  always  understand  them.  These  birds 
seemed  to  say : 

" '  Poor  birdie  !  you  are  to  be  pitied.  You  are  so  little, 
and  you  have  fallen  out  of  your  mother's  nest,  and  we 
can't  put  you  back.  Don't  you  think  you  can  use  your 
little  wings,  and  fly  up  ? ' 

"'  See  me,'  says  the  yellow-bird,  '  see  liow  Ifly!'  and 
away  it  went  from  bush  to  bush. 

" '  Now,'  says  the  mother,  from  a  little,  low  stump,  'just 
hop  here.  You  can  soon  do  it,  and  we  will  get  you  back 
to  the  nest  where  you  fell  from.' 


THE   SOUTHERNER  AT   HOME.  385 

"  Still  the  little  bird  never  stirred,  only  lifting  its  eyes 
pitifully,  and  moved  not  a  feather  of  its  half-grown 
wings. 

"  Presently  hopped  along  a  ground-sparrow,  in  his 
neat  gray  coat,  and  said,  smartly  : 

" '  Come,  little  fellow,  hop  after  me  !  Hop  !  one — 
two — three — right  into  the  tree  !  Hop  first,  and  then 
you  will  fly !  Come,  now — one  hop,  two  hops,  three 
hops,  and  then  away  go  we !' 

"  And  away  went  master  sparrow,  but  alone  by  him- 
self, for  birdie  moved  not  an  inch. 

"  Then  all  the  birds  got  on  one  tree  near  by,  and  held 
a  great  confab,  and  by  the  way  they  chattered,  they 
seemed  very  much  distressed  that  they  could  not,  with 
all  their  coaxing,  get  the  little  bird  up  into  the  nest 
again.  Then  I  went  into  the  house,  and  took  my  little 
work-basket,  and  lined  it  softly  with  white  cotton-wool, 
and  went  softly  to  it  and  laid  birdie  down  carefully  in  it, 
as  nice  as  bird  could  wish  to  be,  for  the  night  was  com- 
ing on,  and  the  ground  was  cold  and  damp.  The  birds 
looked  on,  and  did  not  fly  away,  but  seemed  to  know  the 
little  fellow  had  found  a  friend,  and  by  their  chirping, 
after  I  had  done,  they  seemed  right  pleased  that  it  was 
so  well  cared  for,  for  I  tucked  the  cotton  in  all  round 
its  sides,  leaving  only  its  little  head  peeping  out,  just  as 
I  have  seen  you  when  you  were  a  baby,  tucked  into  your 
crib  under  the  snow-white  sheets. 

"  When  I  went  into  the  house,  I  told  the  colonel  and 
Mr.  De  Clery  the  story.  The  kind,  good  French  gentle- 
man then  got  a  servant  to  bring  a  step-ladder,  and  went 
up  to  the  nest,  and  I  reached  up  to  him  the  wee  birdie, 
to  put  into  it  with  his  three  little  brothers  and  sisters, 
25 


386  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OK, 

■who  were  all  safe  in  bed,  tucked  under  their  mamma's 
wing.  You  never  saw  any  thing  so  happy  as  the  mother 
looked  when  the  little  runaway  was  nestled  again  under 
her  feathers,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  birds  seemed  to 
rejoice  with  her;  they  chirped  and  sang  so  loudly  and 
noisily.  I  think  the  little  bird  was  very  glad  to  get 
back  again  into  its  warm  nest,  and  will  be  very  careful 
not  to  fall  out  again.  I  suspect  he  disobeyed  his  mo- 
ther, and  leaned  too  far  over  the  edge,  just  as  some  lit- 
tle boys  stretch  their  heads  out  of  the  window,  when 
their  mother  tells  them  not,  and  then  away  they  fall  out. 
But  little  boys  do  not  live  when  they  fall,  as  they  strike 
the  hard  stones  and  are  killed ;  and,  if  that  little  bird 
had  struck  on  a  stone,  instead  of  the  soft  grass,  he  too 
would  have  died.  When  you  and  little  cousin  Fred  get 
up  to  the  windows,  remember  the  little  blue-bird  and  be 
careful  not  to  lean  too  far  out. 

"  Now,  good-bye,  dear  Charley,  and  remember  the  lit- 
tle blue-bird  and  his  fate,  and  take  warning,  and  I  shall 
be  more  than  repaid  for  writing  the  history  of  his  mis- 
hap. Be  a  good  little  fellow,  and  kiss  your  ma,  and  my 
little  sister,  and  cousin  for  me  over  and  over  again,  and 
tell  mamma  that  sister  Kate  will  soon  be  at  home,  after 
her  three  years'  absence. 

"  Your  loving  sister, 

"Kate." 

Now,  Mr. ,  I  know  a  letter  to  a  child  is  not  the 

wisest  piece  of  composition  that  ever  was  penned,  but 
Charley  is  a  fine  little  fellow,  and  may  be  an  editor  him- 
self one  of  these  days ;  so,  if  you  will  be  so  good  as  to 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT    HOME.  387 

print  the  letter,  I  will  be  very  much  obliged  to  you, 
and  send  an  extra  paper  containing  it  to  Charley  him- 
self. The  signal  to  embark  is  now  heard,  and  I  must 
end. 

Your  friend  truly, 

Kate. 


888  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH  I    OR, 


LETTER    LI. 

Steamer  Crescent,  Gulf  of  Mexico. 


Dear  Mr.  : 

If  the  penmanship  of  this  letter  be  a  little  wavy, 
and  old  Stephen  Hopkins-like,  you  must  attribute  it  to 
the  unsteadiness  of  the  ship,  which  goes  prancing  and 
bounding  across  the  great  green  waves  like  a  black  war- 
horse,  breathing  smoke  and  fire  from  his  nostrils. 

We  left  New  Orleans  day  before  yesterday,  with  a 
large  number  of  passengers,  and  in  a  few  hours  were 
past  the  Balize  on  the  bosom  of  this  inland  sea.  The 
run  down  the  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  of  river  was 
very  interesting.  The  shores  were  lined  for  many  leagues 
with  the  lemon-colored  or  snow-white  villas  of  the  opulent 
sugar  planters,  half  hid  in  groves  of  oak,  elm,  and  orange 
trees,  the  latter  bearing  still  the  scathing  marks  of  the  last 
frost,  which  laid  their  emerald  and  golden  glories  in  the 
dust.  It  was  pleasant,  as  we  steamed  along,  to  see  the 
families  upon  their  piazzas,  watching  us  with  spy-glasses 
or  waving  kerchiefs  (the  gentlemen  red  silk  and  the  ladies 
cambric)  to  friends  on  board,  who  waved  kerchiefs,  and 
hands,  and  hats,  and  scarfs  back  again ;  the  French  peo- 
ple sending  kisses  shoreward  from  the  tips  of  their  fin- 
gers— a  very  graceful  feat,  and  requiring  some  skill  in 
archery  to  send  them  straight  at  the  ruby  lips  for  which 
they  arc  aimed ! 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  389 

I  amused  myself,  as  we  steamed  down,  in  watching  the 
fishing  canoes  of  the  negroes,  and  coast  luggers,  manned 
by  Spaniards  and  by  French  Creoles,  which  were  either 
reposing  on  the  water  or  moving  in  all  directions  across 
the  dark,  buff-colored  surface.  The  shores  were  con- 
stantly beautiful,  and  with  bordering  roads  as  level  as  a 
church  aisle  for  leagues.  The  "English  Turn"  is  a  re- 
markable bend,  in  which  the  river  doubles  back  upon  its 
course,  and  runs  northwardly  for  a  few  miles,  and  then 
as  abruptly  shears  off  southwardly  towards  the  Gulf,  as 
it  ought  to  do.  But  great  rivers  must  have  their  vaga- 
ries, Mr. ,  as  well  as  other  folks, — and  the  Father 

of  Waters,  considering  his  age  and  experience,  may  well 
be  allowed  one  in  his  course  through  the  world.  But 
this  one,  it  is  said,  sorely  puzzled  some  English  boats, 
once  upon  a  time,  ascending  the  stream ;  for  when  they 
found  by  compass  that  they  were  running  south  again, 
they  imagined  they  had  only  been  following  an  arm  of 
the  gulf,  and  so  turned  about,  and  went  back  the  way 
they  had  come,  and  thus  saved  the  then  French  city  of 
New  Orleans  from  a  hostile  visit.  Hence  the  name  of 
the  place — at  least  so  said  a  nautical-looking  gentleman 
who  stood  near  Isidore,  and  his  bride,  and  myself,  and 
kindly  volunteered  this  piece  of  information ;  but  tra- 
velers sometimes  get  their  ears  filled  with  strange  tales, 
hence  so  many  veracious  Munchausens  printed  from  year 
to  year  by  authentic  tourists.  Dear  me !  If  I  should 
believe  one  half  I  hear  in  my  travels,  I  might  publish  out 
of  the  selection  a  very  interesting  volume  of  travels,  new 
edition,  with  wood-cuts,  beautifully  colored,  and  a  por- 
trait of  Mr.  Gulliver,  jr.  facing  the  title  page. 

You  may  depend,  Mr. ,  upon  all  I  tell  you  as  sober 


390  THE  SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

truth,  even  the  tiger  story,  that  some  naughty  person  has 
been  so  uncivil  as  to  throw  doubt  upon.     Please  tell  him 
never  to  doubt  a  lady's  word.     When  we  had  got  about 
fifty  miles  below  the  city,  we  had  passed  the  ranges  of  _; 
sugar  estates,  and  the  shores  were  in  the  uncultivated  || 
wildness  of  Nature.     They  were  level  to  the  horizon,  and  I 
from  the  wheel-house,  one  gazed  over  a  vast  savannah 
of  eternal  green — a  sea  of  foliage — amid  Avhich,  like  a 
huge,  brown,  shining  serpent,  the  Mississippi  wound  and 
interwound  its  tortuous  course. 

It  was  novel  to  see  the  masts  of  invisible  ships  ascend- 
ing and  descending  far  across  the  green  level,  a  league 
off,  in  another  portion  of  the  bending  river,  while  at  in-  i 
tervals,  from  the  bosom  of  the  savannah,  would  rise 
columns  of  black  smoke,  indicating  the  passage  of  a 
steamer,  the  hull  of  which  was  invisible  below  the  level 
of  the  tree  tops.  The  sun  shone  magnificently,  and  the 
air  was  like  that  of  May  in  New  England.  On  board, 
our  party  was  in  fine  spirits,  and  Isabel  seemed  in  her 
enjoyment  of  the  trip  to  forget  that  she  was  a  "  married 
lady,"  and  ought  to  put  away  such  juvenilities  as  clap- 
ping her  hands  at  anything  striking  or  pretty  she  saw 
on  the  shores.  Her  extreme  beauty,  and  the  noble  in- 
telligence in  all  her  face,  caused  her  to  be  much  observed 
and  greatly  admired  ;  while  the  young  gentlemen  looked 
as  if  they  would  like  to  throw  the  handsome,  happy  Isi- 
dore overboard. 

How  is  it  that  most  men  always  have  a  lurking  dislike 
towards  a  man  with  a  handsome  wife  ?  The  colonel  says 
it  is  so,  and  he  ought  to  know  I  suppose.  Now,  if  I  see 
a  lady  with  a  perfect  Adonis  of  a  husband — poh !  I  don't 
think  of  feeling  envious  of  her — not  I !    I  only  feel  glad 


THE   SOUTHEENER   AT   HOME.  391 

for  him — if  he  looks  like  a  fine-hearted  and  generous 
fellow — that  he  has  got  such  a  handsome  wife.  But  you 
men  are  never  half  so  amiable  as  we  are. 

The  French  gentleman  from  New  Orleans,  is  on  board, 
a  passenger,  and  I  think  he  is  one  of  the  most  agreeable, 
modest  young  men  I  ever  saw.  He  has  somehow  read 
some  of  my  letters,  and  has  taken  quite  a  fancy  to  talk 
with  me.  I  don't  mean  to  say  that  he  talks  love — oh !  we 
are  both  too  sensible  for  anything  of  that  kind.  We 
talk  of  literary  men  and  women,  of  the  literature  of  Ger- 
many and  Spain,  with  which  he  is  perfectly  familiar;  we 
talk  of  nature,  of  the  universe,  and  its  infinite  grandeur 
and  beauty;  of  the  spirit  world  and  of  God,  the  centre 
and  source  of  all.  Though  raised  in  the  Roman  faith, 
he  is,  I  have  discovered,  more  of  a  philosopher  than  a 
Christian,  and  seems  to  have  a  religion  of  his  own,  which 
is  based  upon  his  love  of  the  beautiful  and  good  in  the 
world.  He  says  that  if  we  adore  nature,  we  adore  God 
who  made  it.  In  a  word,  his  piety  is  intellectual,  not 
moral;  meditative,  nothing  more;  and  we  have  keen  ar- 
guments upon  the  faith  of  the  New  Testament.  He  said 
to  me  to-day, 

"I  understand  God,  but  I  do  not  understand  Jesus. 
I  do  not  see  the  need  of  Him  :  He  is  an  incomprehensive 
enigma  to  me." 

Ah,  me !  I  fear  I  was  a  poor  theologian  to  argue  with 
an  educated  mind  like  his ;  but  I  did  my  best  to  show 
him  the  true  nature  and  design  of  Christ's  advent ;  and 
he  listened  with  great  attention,  and  has  promised  to 
read  some  books  I  am  to  lend  him. 

Before  night  we  came  in  sight  of  the  Balize,  or  "  Bea- 
con," at  the  outlet  of  the  river,  and  launched  amid  the 


89Si  THE   SUNNY  SOUTH;   OR, 

glories  of  an  autumnal  evening,  upon  the  azure  bosom 
of  the  Mexican  Sea ;  the  gleaming  lantern  of  the  Pharos, 
at  the  mouth  of  the  pass,  sending  after  us  a  long  pen- 
ciled line  of  glittering  light. 

And  such  a  night  upon  the  sea !  Oh !  how  marvellous 
the  universe  above,  illimitable  and  unfathomable  in  its 
splendid  stellar  mysteries !  The  delicious  breezes  blew 
off  land,  and  gently  ruffled  the  bosom  of  the  Gulf.  There 
was  a  strange  light  over  all  the  sea,  and  filling  the  hea- 
vens and  the  air.  There  was  no  moon,  and  it  must  have 
come  from  the  myriads  of  bright  stars  reflected  back 
from  the  sea,  multiplied  in  numbers  by  the  reflection. 
Earth  absorbs  the  star-rays,  but  the  sea  seems  to  receive 
them  mirror-like,  to  re-light  the  sky  with.  It  was  aa 
light  as  dawn,  and  yet  it  was  near  midnight,  as  I  gazed 
from  the  deck  upon  the  starry  infinity.  In  the  south, 
Sirius  hung  like  a  great  electric  globe,  dazzling  the  eye 
like  a  lesser  sun ;  Orion  walked  down  the  west,  sword- 
armed  and  belted,  flashing  like  a  warrior;  and,  above 
him,  Aldebaran  beamed  with  those  mystic  rays  which 
have  foretold  the  fate  of  empires  to  astrologers;  higher 
still  hung  the  Pleiades,  like  a  cluster  of  grapes,  and 
scintillating  with  a  splendor  truly  celestial.  I  never  be- 
fore saw  the  stars  shine  so  brightly. 

In  the  north-east,  I  beheld  Arcturus  rivaling  Sirius 
in  the  south,  in  stellar  magnificence;  and  around  the 
solitary  Polar  Star  (in  this  latitude,  low  in  the  north) 
paced  the  Great  Bear  with  majestic  strides.  Ah !  there 
is  nothing  in  this  world  so  beautiful  as  a  starry  night  on 
the  sea.  Heaven  above — heaven  around — heaven  re- 
flected beneath.  There  is  such  a  transparency  in  the 
atmosphere,  that  the  skies  seem  within  the  reach  of  the 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  393 

arm.  A  tranquillity  unspeakable  reigns  in  the  upper 
air,  and  the  heart  is  attracted  gently  upward,  and  the 
thoughts  irresistibly  dwell  on  heaven  and  God,  and  the 
great  eternity,  of  which  the  skies  are  a  visible  emblem. 

Speaking  of  the  Pleiades,  was  there  ever  a  seventh? 
and  if  not,  what  becomes  of  Mrs.  Heman's  sweet  address 
to  the  "lost  Pleiad?" 

I  have  always  loved  the  stars — ^loved  them  more  than 
the  moon.  When  I  was  in  Tennessee,  I  was  walking 
with  a  little  fellow,  of  four  years,  on  the  piazza,  who  had 
just  recovered  from  the  measles.  He  looked  up,  per- 
haps for  the  first  time  suffered  to  be  up  so  late,  to  see 
the  stars,  and  said  to  me  naively,  and  as  if  he  had  made 
a  discovery, 

"Dear  Miss  Katy,  the  sties  dot  the  measles!"  "No, 
buddie,"  cried  his  sister,  two  years  older,  "they  are  only 
all  freckled  y 

Both  words  are  descriptive — and  the  last  decidedly 
poetical.  It  was  the  same  little  girl  who,  looking  out 
of  the  window  one  foggy  morning  and  seeing  nothing, 
said — 

"It  looks  as  if  there  were  no  world!" 

What  can  be  finer  than  this  ?  If  the  sayings  of  child- 
ren were  printed,  they  would  make  a  book  surpassing  all 
others  for  naturalness,  poetry,  truth,  and  originality  of 
ideas. 

It  is  past  midnight  on  the  sea ! 

Good-night, 

K.  C. 


894  THE    SUNNY   SOUTH:    OR, 


LETTER    LII. 

Off  Hat  aha. 


Dear  Mr. : 

With  the  queen  city  of  Western  Ind  just  disap- 
pearing from  sight,  and  the  Castle  of  the  Moro  visible 
like  a  gray  speck  against  the  back-ground  of  the  blue 
hills  of  Cuba,  I  retire  to  my  state-room  to  collect  my 
thoughts,  and  write  you  a  fcAv  pages  of  a  letter. 

The  scenery,  which  is  yet  visible  from  the  port  by 
which  I  sit,  is  beautiful  exceedingly.  The  azure  outline 
of  the  sunny  Isle  reclines  in  majestic  repose,  like  a 
mighty  lion,  his  form  half  concealed  in  the  green  bosom 
of  the  sea.  About  the  frowning  Moro  floats  the  smoke 
of  cannon,  fired  to  salute  an  American  ship-of-war,  which 
entered  as  we  passed  out. 

Around  us  are  the  white  sails  of  full  thirty  vessels, 
ships,  and  brigs,  and  schooners,  steering  in  all  ways; 
though  most  of  them,  like  ourselves,  are  just  out  of 
Havana,  and  are  stretching  away  to  the  northward  and 
eastwardly. 

You  will  expect  me,  I  dare  say,  to  give  you  some  ac- 
count of  what  I  saw  in  Havana.  But  the  "letter  writers" 
have  filled  the  papers  with  everything,  until  Havana  is 
now  as  well  known  to  Americans  as  New  York.  If  I 
spoke  of  my  brief  visit,  (for  it  lasted  but  a  day,)  I  should 
write  of  pure,  soft  skies  of  mingled  gold  and  green — of 


THE   SOUTHERXER   AT   HOME. 

delightful  breezes — of  tall  cocoa  and  palm  trees  like 
kings  and  queens  of  the  vegetable  kingdom,  standing 
gloriously  upon  hill  tops  and  upon  the  crests  of  cliffs,  and 
waving  their  superb  feathers  in  the  passing  breeze — of  a 
great  castle,  gray  and  old,  and  dreadfully  frowning, 
hanging  from  a  rock  like  a  giant's  eyebrow,  with  cannon 
beneath,  flashing  like  eyes — and  long  lines  of  open- 
mouthed  guns  belching  forth  fire  and  blue  smoke — of 
dark  visaged  soldiers,  dressed  very  much  in  red,  and 
fierce  with  terrific  moustaches — of  police-boats,  boarding 
us,  filled  with  blue-coated,  black-eyed  Spanish  officers,  as 
polite  as  French  dancing-masters  in  bodily  gesticula- 
tions, but  looking  very  dislikable  and  disliking  out  of 
their  eyes  —  of  narrow  streets  —  of  half-clad  Guinea 
negroes  crowding  the  pier — of  guards  and  military  dis- 
play— of  huge-wheeled  volantes  and  gaudily-harnessed 
mules  and  postillions,  with  boots  a  yard  high — of  small- 
sized  Spanish  generals — of  thin-visaged  Spanish  colonels 
— and  of  great  pomp,  and  show,  and  trumpets,  and  guns, 
and  cigar  smoke,  and  cigar  shops,  everywhere — &c.,  &c. 
The  ladies  rode  out  three  on  a  seat,  in  open,  odd- 
looking  carriages  (volantes),  wore  no  bonnets,  but  had 
their  hair  superbly  dressed,  while  they  were  richly  at- 
tired, as  if  for  a  ball.  I  did  not  see  the  "Paseo"  outside 
of  the  city,  where  everybody  rides  and  walks — the 
"Battery"  of  Havana — as  we  had  no  time;  but  I  had 
pointed  out  to  me  the  fortified  hill  "Antares,"  on  which 
the  devoted  Crittenden — who  will  yet  be  remembered  as 
the  Pulaski  of  Cuba — Avith  his  fifty  companions  in  arms 
met  his  dreadful  fate.  Oh !  what  a  fearful  responsibility 
in  taking  away  the  life  of  a  man  which  God  gave !  God, 
on  one  side,  giving;  man — little,  insignificant  man,  on 


396  THE   SUNNY  SOUTH;   OR, 

the  other  side,  taking  away !  To  destroy  what  we  cannot 
replace  is  a  weighty  matter.  To  destroy,  when  we  know 
not  what  we  destroy,  is  the  act  of  madness  and  folly. 
Who  knows  what  he  does  when  he  kills  a  man  ?  Who 
knows  what  life  is  ?  I  think  all  killing,  whether  by  the 
assassin  or  by  the  law,  equally  dreadful.  Why  kill  a 
man  to  punish  him  ?  It  is  no  punishment  to  the  dead. 
I  do  hope  that  the  day  is  not  far  distant  when  humanity 
will  rise  superior  to  this  relic  of  barbarism,  "execution 
of  wrong-doers,"  and  that  they  may  be  permitted  to 
live  in  confinement  until  they  die  "  by  the  visitation  of 
God." 

The  city  of  Havana  has  a  very  interesting  aspect  to  a 
Yankee  eye.  It  is  so  foreign,  and  unlike  any  thing  we 
have  in  the  United  States.  One  must  certainly  go  from 
home  to  see  the  world — but  at  Havana,  one  not  only  sees 
the  world,  but  more,  too ! 

The  warlike  appearance  of  the  entrance  to  the  harbor 
reminds  me  of  a  pair  of  bull-dogs,  crouching  and  showing 
their  teeth  at  all  corners.  What  a  grand  sight  a  war- 
ship is,  with  its  rows  of  cannon  looking  so  meaningly 
forth  from  the  yawning  port-holes,  her  tall  black  masts, 
and  yards,  and  lofty  battle-walls  of  oak !  One  passed 
us  two  hours  ago,  and  seemed  to  move  as  if  she  were  the 
very  empress  of  the  sea.  Over  her  quarter-deck  floated 
the  red  flag  of  England,  with  its  double-cross — a  fearful- 
looking  ensign  when  I  recalled  its  associations.  Once, 
to  American  eyes,  that  flag  was  the  flag  of  the  foe — and 
hateful  and  detested.  Against  it,  Paul  Jones  the  brave 
hurled  his  iron  shot — and  the  gallant  Preble,  and  Perry, 
and  Hull,  and  Bainbridge,  fought  against  and  conquered 
it.     As  the  insignia  of  conquerors,  it  waved  above  the 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT  HOME.  Sfl^ 

trees  of  Boston  Common,  floated  above  the  Battery  in 
New  York,  flashed  in  the  morning  sun  above  the  tower 
of  the  old  State  House  in  Philadelphia,  and  even  cast  its 
dread  shadow  down  upon  the  dome  of  the  Capitol  at 
Washington.  I  could  not  but  watch  it'  with  interest ; 
but  when  I  glanced  above  our  own  decks,  and  beheld  the 
brilliant  stars  and  stripes  waving  in  the  upper  air  in  folds 
of  beauty,  I  thought,  too,  of  its  glories,  and  my  heart 
bounded  with  pride,  and  I  could  not  help  mentally  apos- 
trophizing the  red  flag  of  Great  Britain  in  this  fashion: 
— "Thou  hast  hitherto  ruled  the  wave,  Britannia,  but 
the  day  is  near  when  these  starry  belts  shall  float,  not 
only  over  the  seas  of  the  globe,  but  over  its  broad  con- 
tinents, and  the  sceptres  of  the  nations  shall  do  homage 
thereto." 

Oh !  who  can  predict  the  glory  of  our  mighty  empire 

of  republics,  Mr. ?     Adelante  !  adelante !  onward 

and  forward  for  ever  is  its  destiny,  if  its  rulers  fear  God, 
and  the  people  are  virtuous  and  true  to  themselves.  It 
is  said  by  some  one,  that  history  always  revolves  in  cir- 
cles; at  each  vast  revolution  of  centuries  bringing  back 
again  the  same  or  like  scenes,  events,  circumstances,  and 
issues.  No  doubt  this  is  true,  and  that  the  mighty  cir- 
cle of  American  history  will  bring  round  its  "  decay  and 
fall  of  the  American  Republics"  in  the  course  of  time. 
Southey  has  said  finely,  but  I  hope  not  truly,  that  "the 
Republics  of  the  United  States  are  splendid  fragments 
out  of  which  future  kingdoms  and  empires  are  to  be 
created." 

Speaking  of  the  destiny  of  my  country,  forces  upon 
my  mind  the  recollection  of  Clay,  Calhoun,  and  Web- 
ster !    Living,  they  formed  a  large  portion  of  our  glory 


398  THE    SUNNY   SOUTH;    Oil, 

and  honor  as  a  nation  before  the  nations.  Dead,  we 
have  fallen  before  the  nations,  just  so  far  as  their  great 
names,  and  deeds,  and  splendid  fame  raised  us.  Alas ! 
for  my  native  land!  Who  can  wield  the  helm  of  state, 
or  fill  the  Senate  with  wisdom  needed,  surpassing  that 
which  Rome  or  Greece  ever  knew?  Who  shall  be  Web- 
ster ?  who  shall  be  Clay  ?  who  shall  be  Calhoun  ? — in  the 
next  Senate,  and  the  Senates  after?  Far  down  the  de- 
files of  time  the  voice  of  inquiry  shall  pass,  ere  echo  an- 
swers, "Behold  him  here!" 

Has  it  ever  occurred  to  you,  sir,  that  these  three 
mighty  men — these  three  intellectual  "Sons  of  Anak" — 
represented,  personally,  mentally,  and  in  all  things  na- 
tional, the  three  great  divisions  of  the  Union?  New 
England  and  the  North  were  embodied  in  Webster!  the 
West  was  personified  and  incarnate  in  Clay !  the  South 
in  Calhoun !  Thus,  the  North,  South,  and  West,  were 
personated  by  an  intellectual  incarnation  of  its  own  pecu- 
liar character  in  these  three  men.  Each  showed  the 
characteristics  of  the  division  of  the  Union  from  which 
he  sprung.  The  South  could  never  have  produced  Web- 
ster— nor  the  North,  Calhoun — nor  the  West,  either  of 
them — nor  either  of  these,  Clay.  This  idea  is  worth 
reflecting  upon,  and  would  be  a  good  theme  for  some 
eloquent  pen. 

But  I  am  making  a  long  letter;  and  as  evening  is 
coming  on,  and  as  every  body  is  exclaiming  about  the 
Bahama  Islands  being  in  sight,  I  must  stop,  and  go  to 
see  these  pearls  in  the  belt  of  old  Neptune. 

Yours, 
Kate. 


THE  SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  89|D 


LETTER    LIII. 

Irtinq  House,  New  York. 


Dear  Mr. : 

From  the  date  of  this  letter  you  see  that  I  am  at  last 
in  the  London  of  the  New  World.  From  Havana  to 
this  city,  we  had  a  delightful  run ;  the  genii  of  the  wea- 
ther being  in  the  best  of  humors,  and  Neptune  so  fast 
asleep  that  we  only  knew  that  he  was  alive  by  the  regu- 
lar, deep  pulsations  of  his  broad  oceanic  heart. 

To  my  surprise,  I  learned  that  when  the  sea  is  per- 
fectly calm,  and  its  surface  glitters  with  the  polished  gla- 
ciery  of  a  mirror,  the  outline  of  its  surface  is  never  at 
rest.  So  far  as  waves  are  concerned,  there  are  at  such 
times  none ;  but  there  is  a  vast,  grand  heaving  of  the 
sea,  as  if  a  mighty,  living  heart  were  regularly  moving 
and  lifting  it  from  beneath.  The  whole  ocean  seems  to 
breathe !  and  its  limitless  bosom  to  rise  and  fall  like  that 
of  a  sleeping  man.  And  this  motion  of  life  has  been 
from  "  the  beginning  !"  Six  thousand  years  it  has  moved 
thus  in  its  mighty  pulsations,  and  its  heart  will  continue 
to  move  and  beat  thus  after  the  pulses  of  the  millions 
that  now  live  will  be  silent !  What  an  emblem  of  eter- 
nity— a  life  of  six  thousand  years  ! 

On  our  voyage,  we  passed  a  great  number  of  white- 
sailed  vessels,  some  going,  as  we  were,  northwardly,  and 
others  steering  towards  the  warm  South ;  while  others 


400  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

met  us  transversly,  coming  out  of  Baltimore  and  Phila- 
delphia, bound  oceanward,  or  else  from  Europe,  seeking 
those  ports.  We  also  saw  three  ocean  steamers,  whose 
black  hulls  and  trailing  clouds  of  murky  smoke,  made 
them  seem,  as  they  moved  among  the  vessels  with  snowy- 
sails,  like  a  sort  of  demons,  saucily  intruding  into  the; 
company  of  good  angels. 

It  is  very  pleasant  on  the  sea,  nevertheless,  in  one  of 
these  same  "  diabolical"  looking  steamers.  Our  cabins 
were  magnificent,  and  we  enjoyed  every  shore  luxury.  - 
They  are  "Irving  Houses"  afloat;  and  we  live  pretty 
much  as  persons  do  at  "springs"  in  a  rainy  day  that 
keeps  everybody  within  doors.  There  are  books  in  va- 
riety for  the  literary,  pens  and  ink  for  the  epistolarian, 
cards  for  the  play-loving,  chess  for  the  quiet,  back-gam- 
mon for  the  noisy,  sandwiches  and  ale  for  the  hungry,  a 
smoking-room  for  the  smoky,  sofas  and  lounges  for  the 
idle  and  lazily  disposed,  couches  for  the  sleepy,  prome- 
nades for  the  restless,  and  good  dinner  and  plenty  of 
champagne  for  everybody. 

Our  passengers  consisted  of  about  forty  people,  who 
represented  no  less  than  nine  nations  :  a  Chinese,  a  Pole, 
a  Mexican,  several  Englishmen,  several  Americans,  three 
Cuban  ladies  and  one  Cuban  gentleman,  four  Frenchmen, 
a  Spaniard,  and  a  German  traveler  with  a  red  moustache, 
who  was  called  by  his  valet  "Baron."  There  was  also 
a  handsome  young  man  who  was  a  Jew  ! 

Has  the  Jew  a  nation  ? — if  so,  then  we  had  ten  nations 
represented  in  our  cabin.  How  extraordinary  that  one 
can  always  tell  a  Jew !  or  rather,  let  me  call  them  "  Is- 
raelites," which  is  the  honorable  name  conferred  upon 
them  by  Jehovah,  and  by  which  they  like  to  be  distin- 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  401 

gulshed — the  term  "Jew"  being  quite  as  repulsive  to  tliem 
as  "Yankee"  to  the  New  Englander.  That  this  wonder- 
ful people  bear  the  impress  of  their  Oriental  origin  to 
this  day,  after  seventeen  hundred  years  of  exile  and  dis- 
persion, is  a  continued  miracle.  The  Jew  of  Chatham 
street,  in  this  city,  is,  in  every  lineament,  the  Jew  of 
Jerusalem  of  to-day,  and  of  the  Jews  of  the  days  of  Jesus. 
In  what  this  peculiarity  consists,  it  is  difficult  to  deter- 
mine precisely,  though  an  artist,  who  studies  closely  the 
characteristics  of  feature,  might  be  able  to  explain. 

It  is  chiefly  in  the  style  and  expression  of  the  eyes  I 
think.  It  is  not  because  the  eye  is  black — for  thousands 
of  Americans  have  black  eyes,  which  are  wholly  different 
in  expression  from  the  peculiar  Jewish  eye.  The  Israel- 
ite eye  is  very  slightly  almond-shaped,  the  upper  lid 
droops  over  about  one-seventh  of  the  iris  of  the  eye,  and 
gives  an  indescribable  expression ;  while  the  lashes  curve 
backwards,  and  have  the  effect  of  a  fringe,  more  than  any 
other  lashes  of  any  other  people's  eyes.  The  expression 
of  the  whole  eye  is  sad,  yet  sparkling — dewy,  yet  brilliant 
— a  sort  of  April-sky  eye.  Dear  me  !  how  difficult  it  is  to 
put  ideas  into  words — to  find  the  words  that  exactly 
paint  that  which  we  are  endeavoring  to  describe.  "Words 
are  very  important  dresses  for  thoughts.  But  if  you 
have  ever  observed  the  eye  of  the  Children  of  Israel,  you 
will  be  able  to  understand  the  peculiarity  I  would  de- 
scribe. 

How  wonderful  the  presence  of  this  people  among  us 
and  other  nations  !  A  people,  yet  without  a  country  !  a 
religion,  yet  without  altar,  priest,  or  temple  !  a  God,  yet 
punished  by  Him  with  a  dispersion  of  one  thousand  seven 
hundred  years !  Their  present  state  is  a  living  testimony 
26 


402  THE  suxNY  south;  or, 

to  the  truth  of  the  Bible,  wherein  it  is  predicted,  as  well 
also,  their  future  restoration  to  their  own  country ! 

Perhaps,  in  connection  with  them,  the  fact  that  their 
number  is  still,  3,000,000  of  souls,  will  be  deemed  not 
the  least  extraordinary.  This  number  came  out  of 
Egypt  with  Moses — this  number  conquered  the  land  of 
Canaan — this  number  constituted  the  nation  when  David 
and  Solomon  were  its  kings — this  number  was  carried 
captive  to  Babylon — and  the  same  number  restored  again 
to  their  land  at  the  re-building  of  the  temple, — the  same 
number  were  taxed  by  the  Roman  conquerors  when  they 
brought  Judea  into  subjection — and  the  same  number 
paid  tribute  to  Caesar — the  same  number,  subtracting  the 
million  which  perished  at  the  taking  of  Jerusalem,  were 
cast  out  among  the  nations  at  the  destruction  of  their 
city  by  Titus,  in  the  first  century,  when  commenced 
"the  dispersion  among  the  nations  of  the  earth,"  which 
still  continues  in  so  remarkable  a  manner;  and  the  late 
census  of  their  people  shows  that  their  number  is  still 
8,000,000.  This,  then,  is  a  nation  in  itself,  though  a 
broken  one,  separated  by  continents  and  oceans,  fragment 
from  fragment — yet  one  in  feature,  one  in  language,  one 
in  religion,  one  in  pursuit,  one  in  all  things  that  have 
ever  given  them  individuality  as  a  nation.  Their  num- 
ber is  equal  to  that  of  the  population  of  the  Thirteen 
Colonies  at  the  Declaration  of  our  Independence — a  num- 
ber large  enough,  as  our  history  and  the  testimony  of 
the  world  shows,  to  lay  the  foundation  of  a  mighty  em- 
pire! 

For  what  is  this  remarkable  and  careful  preservation 
of  the  Israelite?  Ever  dwelling  among  the  Gentiles — 
yet  never  commingling  with  them,  they  never  lose  their 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  403 

nationality.  For  what  reason  this  preservation  of  their 
original  numbers  ?  Without  question  to  be  ready  to  obey 
the  command  that  shall  one  day  fall  upon  their  awaiting 
ears:  "Up,  Israel,  and  go  into  thine  own  land,  for  I 
will  make  of  thee  a  great  nation.  The  glory  of  Jerusalem 
shall  fill  the  whole  earth,  and  the  kings  of  the  earth  shall 
bring  their  glory  and  honor  into  it,  and  I  will  make  thy 
name  glorious  among  the  nations." 

And  what  a  spectacle  will  be  presented  when  they  arise 
as  one  man  to  obey  the  voice  of  Jehovah !  It  will  be  a 
second  march,  like  that  forth  from  Egypt.  Every  land, 
every  city,  every  town,  almost  every  hamlet,  where  men 
trade  and  do  commerce  with  men,  will  give  up  this  people 
among  them — and  this  "nation  of  merchants,"  laden 
with  gold  and  silver,  the  spoils  of  the  Gentiles,  shall 
direct  their  way  towards  Jerusalem,  the  city  of  their  love 
and  pride.  From  every  sea-port  will  sail  ships  laden 
with  the  sons  of  Israel,  steering  for  Palestina,  and  from 
every  inland  town  go  forth  wealthy  caravans  taking  the 
road  towards  the  City  of  David.  The  present  exodus  to 
California  and  Australia,  for  gold  of  the  Gentiles,  in  a 
thousand  ships,  will  give  a  faint  idea  only  of  the  mighty 
movement  that  shall  draw  the  eyes  of  the  world  when 
Israel  shall  arise  in  her  numbers,  and  elevating  the 
standard  of  the  "Lion  of  the  Tribe  of  Judah,"  gather 
her  outcasts  beneath  its  shadow  for  the  march. 

And  when  the  land  of  Canaan  shall  once  more  shake 
with  the  tread  of  returning  Israel — when  the  thousand 
cities  of  her  green  vales  shall  be  rebuilt — when  Jerusalem 
shall  lift  up  her  head  from  the  dust  of  centuries,  and 
dazzle  the  world's  eye  with  her  regenerated  splendor — 
when  the  ports  of  Tyre,  Jaffa,  Sidon,  and  Cesarea  shall 


404  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

once  more  extend  their  marble  piers  into  the  sea  to  em- 
brace the  commerce  of  the  world — then  will  the  Israelite 
take  his  true  place  among  the  nations,  and,  from  his 
geographical  position,  command  the  avenues  of  the  earth's 
commerce.  At  her  feet,  on  the  east,  the  Gulf  of  Persia 
and  the  Euphrates  will  pour  the  wealth  of  India  into  her 
lap — on  the  west,  the  Mediterranean  will  enrich  her  with 
a  thousand  fleets — on  the  north,  from  the  Baltic  and 
Caspian,  she  will  receive  the  tributes  of  merchandise — 
and  from  the  south,  from  Egypt  and  the  Red  Sea,  she 
will  lay  her  hand  upon  the  wealth  of  Ethiopia  and 
Australia.  She  will  sit  enthroned  in  the  true  commercial 
centre  of  the  earth,  and,  from  the  vast  wealth  that  her 
people  will  carry  to  her  from  the  nations  wherein  they 
have  been  dispersed,  they  will  be  able  to  control  the 
commercial  empire  of  the  whole  globe ;  and  this  same 
wealth  will  enable  them  to  make  Judea  a  land  of  cities 
that  will  rival  all  those  of  other  lands,  and  render  their 
country  the  very  heart  of  luxury,  and  of  the  splendor 
and  power  of  the  earth. 

And  this  is  no  visionary  speculation.  It  is  to  come 
to  pass  in  the  years  that  are  before  us,  for  prophecy 
hath  spoken  the  word.  It  is  from  many  hours'  conversa- 
tion with  the  youthful  Israelite,  our  fellow-passenger, 
that  I  have  become  so  interested  in  his  nation — hence 
my  enthusiasm  in  the  foregoing  pages. 

Very  sincerely,  your  friend, 

Kate. 


THE   SOUTHERNER  AT  HOME.  405 


LETTER   LIV. 

My  Dear  Sir; 

You  will  find  me,  after  having  been  so  near  you  as 
New  York,  receding  again  from  you,  and  my  next  letter 
will  be  from  the  bosom  of  my  native  hills,  in  the  north 
of  dear  New  England.  My  last  was  written  from  New 
York,  where  we  arrived  seven  days  ago,  by  the  Crescent 
City,  as  I  have  already  stated. 

The  fifth  day  after  reaching  that  Babel  of  confusion  of 
tongues  and  of  omnibuses,  Isidore  and  Isabel  embarked 
for  England  in  the  steamer.  During  their  brief  stay  in 
New  York  they  visited  every  place  of  interest,  I  being 
in  their  company,  with  the  addition  of  Monsieur  de 
Cressy  from  New  Orleans,  who  had  fairly  attached  him- 
self— not  to  me — no,  no, — but  to  our  party. 

It  was  a  sad  parting  that,  between  Isabel  and  myself. 
I  accompanied  her  on  board  the  steamer,  and  again  took 
leave  of  her  to  return  to  the  city.  I  shed  more  tears 
that  day  than  ever  I  did  before,  and  my  eyes  still  over  • 
flow  when  I  reflect  that  I  may  never  see  again  the  sweet 
lovely  girl,  who  for  three  years  has  been  my  pupil,  and 
who  as  a  married  woman  is  now  fairly  launched  upon 
the  stormy  billows  of  life.  That  she  will  be  happy  I 
have  no  doubt,  for  M.  de  Clery  is  very  devoted,  and 
seems  every  way  worthy  of  her.  My  only  consolation 
is  now  in  the  prospect  of  letters  from  her,  as  she  has 


406  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

promised  to  write  me  every  two  weeks  while  she  is 
abroad.  The  colonel  intended  to  have  accompanied  his 
accomplished  daughter,  but  the  day  before  they  sailed  he 
received  a  letter  informing  him  of  the  death  of  his  over- 
seer, and  of  sickness  among  the  slaves  upon  his  estate 
in  Tennessee.  He  accordingly  delayed  only  to  see  them 
embark,  and  the  next  day,  after  accompanying  me  to 
the  New  Haven  and  Boston  cars,  to  bid  me  good  bye, 
started  for  the  West,  sad  at  heart,  with  parting  from  so 
beloved  a  child  as  Isabel  had  ever  been.  When  he  shook 
me  by  the  hand  to  speak  "good  bye,"  his  eyes  filled 
with  tears ;  and  he  said, 

"Be  a  good  girl,  Kate!  Next  to  Bel,  you  are  dear  to 
me.  Write  to  me  often,  for  in  your  letters  and  Bel's 
remain  my  only  solace  now;  and  look  you,  dear  Kate, 
don't  fall  in  love  and  marry  somebody  or  other  that 
can't  appreciate  you.  Write  and  tell  me  all  about  your- 
self, and  give  my  love  to  your  dear  good  mother,  and 
kiss  the  little  folk  for  me,  and  don't  forget  to  give  them 
the  presents!" 

He  then  whispered  in  a  low  tone,  "Don't  lose  your 
heart,  Kate,  to  De  Cressy." 

He  then — kissed  me,  Mr.  ,  and  I  hid  my  face 

with  my  thick  veil  to  conceal  my  tears ;  and  so  I  saw  the 
dear  good  colonel  no  more!  The  best  of  heaven's  beni- 
sons  be  upon  him ! 

I  was  not  alone  in  my  journey  to  Boston.  I  was 
placed  in  charge  of  our  Member  of  Congress  from  Ten- 
nessee, who,  with  his  lady,  was  taking  a  trip  to  see  the 
Yankee  Capital,  and  purchase  a  few  Yankee  notions  as 
curiosities  for  their  children  at  home.  There  was,  be- 
sides, in  the  cars  by  chance,  M.  de  Cressy,  the  handsome 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT  HOME.  407 

young  New  Orleans  gentleman,  who  was  on  his  way  to 
Montreal.  He  was  very  civil  and  kind,  and  did  all  he 
could  to  make  me  cheerful,  and  pointed  out  the  pretty 
bits  of  scenery.  The  ride  to  Boston  was  very  dull,  all 
that  he  could  do,  and  I  fear  I  was  very  poor  company 
for  any  one.  At  length  we  came  in  sight  of  the  massive 
dome  of  the  state-house,  croAvning  the  city,  to  which 
three  years  before  I  had  bidden  adieu  on  my  way  south ; 
and  before  I  could  believe  the  fact,  I  found  myself  in  the 
heart  of  the  city,  opposite  the  United  States  Hotel. 

"VVe  are  at  the  Revere  House,  a  very  elegant  establish- 
ment, kept  in  the  finest  way.  Boston  is  an  odd-looking 
city,  with  inexpressibly  tortuous  streets,  and  narrow; 
while  the  habitations  usually  are  the  plainest  structures 
that  brick,  mortar,  and  stone  can  erect.  The  door  en- 
trances are,  half  of  them,  mere  square  cuts  in  the  brick, 
wholly  destitute  of  ornament  or  grace.  The  public 
buildings  are  very  grand  and  massive:  but  as  a  city, 
Boston  is  surpassed  by  New  York,  Philadelphia,  and 
Baltimore.  But  as  to  intellect,  for  great  men,  for  ju- 
rists, statesmen,  and  princely  educated  merchants,  no 
city  is  its  peer. 

I  have  visited  to-day  old  Fanueil  Hall,  through  which 
the  mighty  voice  of  Webster  has  reverberated ;  also  the 
old  State-house,  associated  with  the  early  Colonial  his- 
tory of  the  Commonwealth ;  also  the  place  of  the  British 
massacre  in  State  street;  the  site  of  the  famous  "Liberty 
Tree;"  the  wharf  from  which  the  tea  was  thrown  into 
the  harbor;  the  house  where  Washington  lived;  and 
Bunker's  Hill,  upon  which  the  monument  of  enduring 
granite  rises  like  a  gigantic  needle,  hundreds  of  feet  into 
the  blue  ether;  "the  first  object  to  catch  the  beanos  of 


408  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

the  rising  sun,  which  tremble  last  upon  its  sky-piercing 
pinnacle!" 

These  Boston  folk  are  very  aristocratic — more  so  and 
more  English  than  other  Americans.  They  are  very 
literary,  too,  and  among  them  are  a  large  number  of 
scholars  of  both  sexes.  The  Countess  d'  Ossoli,  so  un- 
happily lost  at  sea,  was  a  noble  specimen  of  these  Bos- 
ton literary  women.  German  is  a  great  deal  studied 
here,  and  where  it  is  not  studied,  its  knowledge  is 
affected.  No  person  here  is  considered  at  all  literary 
without  German!  and  the  possession  of  this,  without 
much  brains,  is  a  passport  into  the  "Book  Society." 

The  Boston  people  dress  very  primly — the  men  much 
more  so  than  the  ladies.  The  latter  have  a  horrid  fash- 
ion of  bundling  up  themselves  in  cloaks  and  muffs  in  the 
winter,  that  is  monstrous.  They  look  exactly  like  Kam- 
schatka  merchants  waddling  about.  I  had  not  seen  a 
muff  for  so  many  years  that  they  looked  perfectly  ludi- 
crous to  me.  I  don't  wonder  the  green  Mississippi 
medical  student  wrote  home  that  "all  the  girls  in  Bos- 
ton carried  young  bears  in  their  hands  when  they  went 
out." 

The  churches  here  are  very  tall  and  numerous,  and 
nice  looking ;  but  none  very  elegant.  Trinity  is  a  gray 
massive  pile  of  architectural  rock^  imposing  and  fortress- 
like. St.  Paul's  is  a  Grecian  temple;  Park  Street  a 
spire  after  the  old  Puritan  pagoda  fashion,  lessening  in 
a  succession  of  white  porticoes,  one  elevated,  ad  infinitum^ 
upon  another,  till  it  ended  "into  nothing,"  as  the  Hon. 
Mr.  Slick  once  graphically  described  the  same  structure. 

Every  body  goes  to  Church  here,  and  it  is  wicked  to 
be  seen  in  the  streets  in  church  hours,  on  Sunday,  ev 


THE   SOUTHERNER  AT   HOME.  409 

cept  for  doctors.  Tiding  men  I  believe  no  longer  go 
about  at  such  times  with  long  rods  "seeking  ■whom  they 
may  devour,"  that  is,  such  small  game  as  little  boys  play- 
ing truant  from  their  seats  in  the  pews. 

I  have  not  yet  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  dear  good 
old  Mistress  Partington.  Everybody  seems  to  be  well 
acquainted  with  her,  but  nobody  seems  to  know  where 
she  "puts  up."  All  I  can  learn  is,  that  her  maiden 
name  was  Green.  As  soon  as  I  ascertain,  I  intend  to 
call  upon  her  and  pay  my  respects ;  for  such  an  honor  to 
Boston  literature  should  not  be  lightly  passed  by.  The 
good  dame  I  understand  is  very  thin,  having  lost  much 
of  her  flesh  in  trying  to  master  the  German  language,  in 
order  to  be  admitted  into  the  "Blue-Stocking  Club  of 
Literary  Ladies,"  the  motto  of  which  is  "Nulla  Comeina 
sine  Germano."  The  unhappy  old  lady,  it  is  rumored, 
dislocated  her  jaw  the  third  lesson,  in  trying  to  pro- 
nounce "Ich,"  which  it  is  said  has  contributed  to  her 
leanness,  from  inability  to  take  only  liquids. 

There  is  a  probability  of  my  leaving  to-morrow  for 

home,  dear  Mr. ,  and  when  I  am  once  more  in  the 

quiet  seclusion  of  my  native  village,  I  shall  have  nothing 
of  interest  to  give  occupation  to  my  pen ;  for  the  history 
of  one  day  there  is  the  history  of  every  day  in  the  year. 
I  shall  therefore  send  you  but  one  letter  more,  informing 
you  of  my  safe  arrival  amid  the  cherished  scenes  of  my 
childhood. 

Your  friend,  very  truly, 

Kate. 


410  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OJl, 


LETTER    LV. 

My  Dear  Sir: 

Once  more  I  find  myself  seated  at  the  humble  old 
fireside,  beneath  my  mother's  roof.  Once  more  I  see 
about  me  old  familiar  faces  and  familiar  objects,  every 
one  of  which  carries  me  back  by  some  association  to  my 
childhood.  There  is  the  tall  mantel-piece,  with  the  same  ij 
bright  brass  candlesticks,  which  have  been  in  use  since 
I  remember  anything,  placed  symmetrically  one  on  each  , 
end ;  the  mahogany  clock  in  the  corner,  with  a  full  moon  I j 
rising  above  its  round  visage  in  blue  clouds,  and  with  face 
and  eyes  exactly  like  my  dear  old  grandmother,  whose 
smooth  countenance  was  as  round  and  good-natured  as 
any  full  moon  you  ever  saw.  There  are  the  two  silhou- 
ette profiles  in  the  jettest  black  of  my  venerated  father 
and  of  my  mother,  facing  each  other,  over  the  little  look- 
ing-glass between  the  windows ;  my  father  with  a  queue, 
and  my  mother  with  a  preposterously  short  waist  and 
high  cap — objects  that  I  used  to  gaze  upon  with  admira- 
tion when  a  child,  only  wondering  why  they  were  so 
black. 

There  is  also  in  one  corner  my  little  red  cricket,  on 
which  I  used  to  sit  at  my  mother's  knee,  and  learn  the 
old  Puritan  catechism,  and  the  dreadful  story  of  John 
Rogers  who  was  represented  in  a  famous  wood-cut,  tied 
to  a  stake,  burning,  and  his  wife  and  nine  children,  one 


THE   SOUTHERNER  AT  HOME.  411 

at  the  breast,  lamentably  standing  around,  witli  a  wicked 
soldier  stirring  up  the  fire.  The  same  little  Primer — 
torn,  dirty,  with  woful-looking  dogs'  ears — I  now  see  on 
my  mother's  triangular  little  book-shelf  in  the  corner. 

There  sits  my  dear  good  mother,  too,  in  her  low  rock- 
ing-chair, where  she  has  sat,  when  she  sat  down  at  all, 
since  my  earliest  recollection,  with  the  same  three-footed 
little  stand  by  her  side,  to  hold  her  thread-box  and  needle- 
book,  and  by  night  a  candle.  There  she  sits  now  in  "  Aer 
corner,"  as  the  one  opposite  used  to  be  called  "pa'«  cor- 
ner," and  admiring  my  New  York  hat,  and  wondering 
"how  fashions  do  change  !"  She  is  still  handsome,  with 
the  same  pure  complexion  of  rose-red  and  white ;  the 
same  mild,  motherly,  kind  eye ;  the  same  quiet,  serene, 
almost  holy,  smile !  But  I  cannot  deceive  my  loving 
gaze  by  denying  that  she  has  changed  since  I  left  her. 
Her  soft  brown  hair  is  streaked  with  silvery  threads,  and 
crosswise  her  forehead  I  discern  lines  that  Time  has  en- 
graven there  with  his  relentless  burin.  She  will  be  fifty 
years  of  age  next  Christmas,  and  yet  so  gentle  has  been 
her  disposition,  so  quiet  the  flow  of  the  river  of  her  daily 
life,  that  she  looks  (excepting  the  cross  lines  and  silver 
hair)  not  more  than  five-and-thirty.  She  looks  happier 
now  than  ever ;  and  once  in  a  while  I  feel  that,  as  I 
write,  her  eyes  rest  lovingly  upon  me,  with  a  mother's 
deep  love — while  gratitude  for  my  return  in  safety  and 
health  fills  her  soul  heavenwardly. 

My  little  brother  and  sister  are  seated  on  the  floor, 
enjoying  the  numerous  presents  which  I  brought  them, 
and  which  filled  a  trunk  by  themselves ;  for  not  only  the 
colonel  sent  them  many,  but  dearest  Isabel  and  Isidore 
also.    My  letter  to  Charlie,  Avhich  you  printed  so  kindly, 


41^  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OK, 

was  received  by  him  with  uproarious  joy.  It  was  the 
village  wonder  for  a  week.  All  the  good  dames  came  in 
to  read,  or  hear  my  mother  read,  a  real  printed  letter  in 
the  '' noospapers"  to  a  little  boy. 

"Do  tell!"  Well,  who'd  ever  ?"  "Now  only  tUnhr 
"A'n't  it  curious  ?"  were  the  exclamations  of  the  good 
souls. 

But  if  my  letter  in  print  created  such  a  sensation 
among  our  kind,  unsophisticated  neighbors,  what  must 
have  been  the  sensation  produced,  think  you,  sir,  at  my 
return  home  ?  It  would  be  diflficult  to  describe  the  scenes 
of  welcoming  which  I  passed  through.  Everybody  came 
to  see  me,  old  and  young,  for  a  mile  about ;  and  for  three 
days  I  have  been  holding  a  levee;  and  have  had  to  do 
talking  enough  for  a  three  volume-book  of  travels,  in 
order  to  gratify  their  homely  curiosity  about  the  South 
and  the  "black  slaves,"  and  cotton,  and  sugar,  and 
oranges  growing  on  trees,  and  how  there  was  no  snow, 
and  the  mocking-birds,  and  everything  which  was  differ- 
ent from  what  they  had  in  New  Hampshire. 

"  So  you've  seen  fig-trees,"  said  old  Deacon  Starks, 
looking  at  me  with  great  respect.  "  Zaccheus  climbed 
up  into  one ;  and  you  have  seen  jist  sich  a  tree  ?  And 
the  Master  went  to  one  to  get  figs,  and  finding  none, 
curst  it.  Wall,  I'd  liked  to  a  seed  somethin'  with  my 
own  eyes  as  is  in  the  Bible." 

"  Do  you  think  the  leaves  is  big  enuf  for  aprons,  Miss  ?" 
respectfully  asked  an  old  maid,  a  stranger  and  new-comer, 
who  had  been  introduced  as  Miss  Tape. 

"And  you  say  you  see  pummcgranates  on  trees,"  ob- 
served the  deacon,  perse vcringly  ;  "  well,  them  are  Bible 


THE   SOUTHEIINER   AT   HOME.  413 

frnits,  because  as  they  made  the  seven  candlesticks  like 
pummegranates. ' ' 

"  And  does  every  South  woman  sleep  with  a  gun  under 
her  pillow,  to  keep  from  bein'  killed  by  the  black  slaves 
in  the  night  ?  I  wouldn't  trust  myself  among  the  krit- 
ters.  I  never  sees  one  here  but  I  feel  skeared,  they  are 
so  black." 

"It's  a  marcy  you  ever  got  back  safe,"  said  old 
grandam  Ford,  who  was  as  deaf  as  a  door,  and  never 
waited  for  or  expected  replies. 

Every  dress  I  have  has  been  borrowed,  and  my  trunks 
are  empty,  the  contents  going  the  rounds  of  the  neigh- 
borhood. The  truth  is,  I  am  the  lioness  of  the  villajre 
just  now ;  and  I  expect  that  I  shall  have  as  many  as  a 
dozen  offers  before  New  Year's,  for  it  is  reported  I  have 
"made  my  fortin  teachin'  down  South,"  a  pedagogical 

miracle,  Mr. ,  which  you  can  vouch  for  was  never 

yet  done  on  the  earth.  All  the  beaux  are  getting  mea- 
sured for  new  suits  at  little  Billy  Buttonhole's,  the  tailor, 
who  has  promised  to  make  seven  complete  suits  by  Sa- 
turday night,  when  the  little  Shears  knows  very  well, 
that  with  his  whole  force  of  one  woman  and  a  white- 
headed  lad.  Tommy,  he  can't  finish  one.  One  thing  is 
very  fortunate,  that  it  is  not  known  here  that  I  am  an 
authoress  at  all,  otherwise  I  have  no  doubt  that  Mr. 
Font,  the  village  editor  of  the  Democratic  paper,  "A 
Voice  from  the  Mountains,  and  White  Hills  Democratic 
Investigator,"  would  be  annoying  me  with  the  honor  of 
soliciting  a  contribution  for  his  "Poet's  Corner." 

This  letter  ends  my  literary  career,  Mr. .     It  has 

been  brief  and  obscure,  but  nevertheless  has  been  plea- 
sant to  me.     Monsieur  de  Cressy  (who  chanced  to  occupy 


414  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

the  same  car  with  me  as  far  as  the  depot  near  this  vil-  |i 
lage,  and  then  continued  on  to  Montreal,)  insists  that  |! 
my  letters  be  collected  and  published  in  a  volume.  Dear  jj 
me !  I  write  a  bound  book  ?  The  idea  is  alarming.  I  | 
fear  my  letters,  which  may  do  well  enough  for  a  news-  \ 
paper,  would  make  a  sorry  figure  between  covers.     But 

they  are  yours,  Mr. ,  and  if  any  of  your  readers 

(those  dear  friends  whom,  having  not  seen,  I  esteem  and 
love)  express  a  desire  to  have  them  put  into  a  volume,  | 
I  yield  my  own  views  to  yours  and  theirs.  If  they 
should  merit  the  honor  of  appearing  in  a  book-form,  I 
would  like,  if  it  were  not  too  presumptuous,  to  call  the 
book: — 

ISABEL; 

OR, 

THE  aOVERNESS  AND   PUPIL: 

A    TALE    OF    THE    WEST    AND    SOUTH. 

IN  A   SERIES   OF   LETTERS, 

BY   KATE   CONYNGHAM. 

I  suggest  this  title  because  the  letters  embrace  a  little 
romancero,  as  you  have  perceived  from  the  beginning  to 
the  end,  of  which  Isabel  (not  Kate)  is  the  true  heroine. 
Good-bye,  Mr. ,  I  thank  you  for  your  condescen- 
sion in  admitting  my  poor  writings  into  your  columns, 
and  I  feel  grateful  to  those  dear  friends  who  have  spoken 
kindly  of  them. 

With  blessings  on  you  all,  I  remain, 

Your  sincere  friend, 

Kate  CoNYNaHAM. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  415 


LETTER    LVI. 

Mr  DEAR  Mr. : 

I  KNOW  not  how,^  patiently,  to  reply  to  your  saucy 
letter  to  me !  Indeed,  you  write  as  if  you  fancied  that 
"  a  correspondent  once"  is  a  correspondent  forever  of 
your  Journal.  And  then  to  intimate  that  my  little  Nee- 
dle possibly  may  stand  in  the  way  of  your  getting  large 
Needles  for  your  paper  !  How  did  you  find  out  that  I 
was  married?  and  how  did  you  learn  where  the  quiet 
corner  of  the  South  is  where  I  have  been  for  nearly  two 
years  a  happy  wife? 

Your  letter  took  me  quite  by  surprise,  and  my  sharp- 
eyed  little  Needle,  Harry,  as  I  was  reading  it,  snatched  it 
with  his  fat  fist,  and  nearly  tore  it  into  fifty  atoms,  before 
I  could  rescue  it  from  his  fierce  gripe.     It  was  well  for 

your  sake  it  was  not  your  head,  Mr. .     And  you 

have  the  coolness  to  say  (I  read  after  I  had  smoothed 
and  put  the  pieces  together  as  well  as  I  could) — the  cool 
effrontery  to  all  married-  dames  to  say,  that  you  do  not 
think  "  that  my  having  got  married  will  lessen  aught  the 
interest  of  my  'Needles'  if  I  will  kindly  contribute  an- 
other series!"  For  tliat  speech,  in  pen  and  ink,  you 
deserve  that  every  married  lady  should  stop  your  paper. 
Indeed  !     My  being  married  has  not  upset  my  wits,  nor 

quite  made  a  fool  of  me,  Mr. ,  though  if  you  should 

sometimes  chance  to  overhear  me  talk  to  Harry  in  a 


41tS  THE  SUNNY  south;  or, 

language  wliicli  has  neither  dictionary,  grammar,  nor 
meaning,  you  would  asseverate  that  I  was  for  the  time 
a  little  out ! 

But  baby-talk  is  a  young  mother's  privilege.  You 
men  may  growl  at  the  cherubs  in  monosyllables,  but  you 
can't  talk  baby !  Harry  opens  wide  and  wider  his  great 
black  eyes  at  all  the  pretty  things  I  tell  him  about 
"horsey  eaty  corney;  cowey  moo-moo-mooey ;  doggy 
barkey  boo-Avoo-woo ;  chick ey  crowey  doo-dle-doo-oo ; 
turkey  (which  baby  calls  'daggins')  gobble,  gobble, 
gobble;"  and  so  on,  giving  extraordinary,  and,  in  my 
own  estimation,  very  respectable  and  praiseworthy  imi- 
tations of  the  noises  of  animals,  especially  the  barking 
of  Bruno,  our  huge  mastiff;  at  which  I  feel  assured  I  am 
very  successful,  for  the  deep  notes  always  set  my  little 
Needle  to  puckering  his  woful  lips,  and  ending  the  imi- 
tation by  a  genuine  bellowing  of  his  own;  and  the  cry  of 
a  child  thirteen  months  old  is  no  trifling  affair,  especially 
if  mamma  is  out  of  sugar- candy. 

In  such  cases  nothing  stops  the  dear  little  angel  of  a 
boy  but  my  blowing  tremendous  blasts  upon  a  tin  trumpet, 
on  the  homoeopathic  principle  of  like  curing  like;  and 
his  astonishment  at  the  superiority  of  my  tin  trumpet 
performance  to  that  of  his  own  lungs  is  so  great,  that  he 
pauses,  and  gives  in — fairly  beaten. 

These  "little  Needles  knows  a  heap,"  as  Aunt  Chloe, 
his  old  black  nurse,  said  to  me  this  morning,  as  Harry 
knocked  over  a  little  wooley-crowned  black  baby,  Chloe's 
grandson,  which  had  crawled  near  him,  and  began  to 
amuse  himself  by  sucking  an  India  rubber  tooth-biter. 
"Mass  Harry  make  little  nigga  know  hi'  place!" 

I  could  not  help  laughing  at  the  old  woman's  remark; 


THE   SOUTHERNER    AT   HOME.  417 

at  the  same  time  could  not  but  feel  its  truth,  v  The  white 
infant  on  a  plantation  very  early  understands,  as  if  by 
instinct,  its  superiority ;  while  the  African  child  tacitly 
recognizes  it.  This  African  element  infused  into  our 
humanity  is  a  great  mystery.) 

Excuse  this  blot,  Mr. ;   Harry  has  pulled  at  my 

sleeve  in  trying  to  walk  round  my  table,  and  upset  my 
inkstand  shockingly.  And  while  I  shake  my  finger  at 
him,  he  shakes  his  wise  head  from  side  to  side  in  a 
cunning  way,  as  much  as  to  say,  "No — no,  you  won't 
whip  baby!"  and  then  he  smiles  with  enchanting  confi- 
dence, looks  up  into  my  face  with  eyes  full  of  love  and 
fun,  and  ends  by  putting  up  his  little  mouth  for  a  kiss ; 
for  the  rogue  is  conscious  that  he  has  done  a  great  mis- 
chief, which  he  so  often  perpetrates  in  some  shape  or 
other  through  the  day,  as  to  be  quite  familiar  with  my 
reproving  exclamation  of  "Ah!  naughty  Harry!" 

Dear  little  fellow !  I  would  not  lay  the  tip  of  my  finger 
upon  his  beautiful  body,  in  retribution  for  all  the  blots, 
work-baskets  turned  topsy-turvy,  books  torn,  and  all 
his  miscellaneous  misdoings  generally.  I  would  not  for 
India's  wealth  arouse  in  that  dear  little  heart  of  his,  fear 
of  his  mother !  There  is  so  little  pure  affection  on  this 
earth,  let  it  be  found  sacred  and  unmarred  between  the 
young  mother  and  her  heaven-given  babe  ! 

You  should  have  seen  poor  little  Harry  when  he  was 

christened,  Mr.  .     He  was  then  ten  months  old, 

and  a  stout,  strong,  rosy  rogue,  with  a  laughing  face 
that  seemed  to  over-run  at  the  bright  eyes  with  the  light 

of  joy. 

But  when  the  minister  took  him  into  his  arms,  Harry 
looked  up  into  the  stranger's  grave  face  with  a  stare  of 
27 


418  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

wonder  and  a  slight  inkling  of  fear;  the  first  shadow  of 
which  I  ever  saw  pass  across  his  sunny  brow.  The  deep 
voice  of  the  clergyman  in  its  solemn  tones  seemed  to 
make  a  strange  impression  upon  the  child's  sensitive 
nature.  All  at  once  he  put  up  his  rosy  mouth,  sweetly 
open  like  a  young  robin's,  and  with  a  half-timid,  half- 
coaxing  look,  pulled  the  minister  by  his  bands,  and  drew 
his  face  down  close  to  his  that  he  might  kiss  him !  It 
was  beautiful  and  touching!  The  dear,  half-frightened 
child  evidently  wanted  to  conciliate  and  win  his  enemy 
over  by  love ! 

The  good  man  paused  in  the  service,  and  with  a  fine 
smile  bent  down  to  the  little  open  mouth,  and  kissed  him 
so  affectionately,  and  then  patted  his  cheek  so  kindly, 
that  Harry  at  once  took  courage  and  confidence,  clasped 
his  little  fists  together,  a  smile  like  heaven  lighted  up 
his  face,  and  he  nestled  in  the  arms  of  the  clergyman 
with  a  confidence  and  trustfulness,  in  singular  contrast 
with  his  doubt  and  timidity  a  moment  before. 

Oh !  how  powerful  is  love !  It  is  thus  that  God  would 
have  us  lift  up  our  lips  to  Him  in  prayer,  and  thus  He 
will  bend  down  and  bless  us,  making  us  happy  and  at 
peace  with  the  assurance  of  His  tender  afiection.  Harry 
received  the  cold  baptismal  rain  upon  his  curly  head 
without  a  change  in  his  smiling  face.  With  "the  cross 
upon  his  brow,"  I  received  my  child  back  from  God's 
altar,  where  I  had  thus  dedicated  him ;  and  like  a  Crusader 
bearing  the  cross,  I  trust  he  will  be  to  his  life's  end  a 
faithful  soldier  in  the  host  of  the  Captain  of  his  salva- 
tion! 

How  can  a  mother  clasp  to  her  heart  from  week  to 
week  an  unconsecrated  child,  remaining  as  it  was  born, 


THE   SOUTHERNER  AT   HOME.  419 

un  sanctified  by  the  living  waters  of  the  church's  foun- 
tains? It  was  the  little  children  Jesus  took  up  in  His 
arms ;  it  was  the  little  children  He  commanded  mothers  to 
bring  to  Him !  Since  the  christening  of  my  dear  Harry 
I  love  him  far  more,  and  I  lie  down  with  him  in  peace, 
knowing  that,  should  he  be  called  from  my  arms,  he  was 
first  placed  by  me  in  the  arms  of  Jesus,  in  the  bosom  of 
His  church. 

But  to  your  letter,  Mr. ,  desiring  me  to  do  you 

the  favor  to  renew  my  letters,  or  "Needles,"  which  you 
kindly  say  "were  not  only  well  received,  but  are  yet 
much  inquired  after!"  I  am  not  ungrateful  for  the  kind 
interest  my  poor  epistles  have  awakened  in  the  hearts 
of  many,  whom  I  shall  never  know  in  this  world.  For 
their  pleasure,  I  am  ready  to  begin  a  new  "paper  of 
Needles;"  but  now,  that  I  am  married,  these  dear  readers 
must  expect  that  my  little  Needle,  "Harry,"  will  figure 
a  good  deal  in  them. 

I  am  living  very  retired,  with  but  few  subjects  of  in- 
terest, other  than  domestic  ones.  My  house  is  a  para- 
dise of  love  and  peace.  My  husband  seems  to  think 
only  of  me  and  Harry — ^to  forget  himself  for  tis!  In 
my  next  letter  I  will  describe  my  home  in  the  Sunny 
South,  and,  perhaps,  I  may  find  subjects  enough  around 
me  to  give  some  interest  to  my  Needles.     But  I  have 

first  a  word  to  say,  Mr. ,  before  I  fairly  consent  to 

be  your  correspondent.  I  do  not  wish  you  to  alter  my 
letters,  or,  in  your  masculine  dignity,  cut  out  any 
"baby-talk,"  or  baby  affairs,  that  may  be  in  them;  for 
my  nursery  is  my  world  just  now,  and  Harry  the  most 
important  personage  in  this  little  world  of  cradle  and 


420  THE   SUNNY    SOUTH;   OR, 

painted  toys!    Perhaps   in   that  greater  nursery,   the 
WORLD  itself,  bearded  men  are  quite  as  much, 

"  Pleased  with  a  rattle,  and  tickled  with  a  straw," 

as  Harry  in  the  lesser  one. 

Farewell,  Mr. , 


Your  friend, 

Kate  de  C. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT  HOME.  421 


LETTER    LVII. 


My  Dear  Mr.  : 

How  provoking  it  is  to  be  mistaken  for  somebody 
else  besides  one's  self!  Until  a  few  days  ago  I  was  not 
aware  that  the  celebrated  Miss  Conyngham  of  England, 
who  traveled  through  Italy  and  Austria  distributing 
tracts,  for  which  she  was  imprisoned,  was  thought  to  be 
me!  I  really  hoped  that  my  thousand  dear  friends  who 
knew  me  through  my  pen,  had  a  better  opinion  of  Kate 
than  to  suppose  she  could  give  herself  up  to  such  a 
fanaticism  as  marked  the  wild  career  of  the  Miss  Conyng- 
ham who  frightened  Austria,  and  like  to  have  set  Eng- 
land and  its  Emperor  by  the  ears ! 

It  is  true,  our  party  went  to  Europe  after  Isabel's 
marriage,  where  my  husband  and  I  joined  her,  and  we 
were  traveling  at  that  time ;  but  while  Miss  K.  Conyng- 
ham was  in  prison  in  Austria,  Miss  Kate  Conyngham  as 
a  bride,  was  climbing  Ben  Nevis  in  bonnie  Scotland, 
leaving  none  but  her  own  traeJcs  (French  No.  2'8)  in  the 
heather.  This  I  wish  to  be  distinctly  made  known ;  for 
though  I  have  no  objection  to  be  a  tract  distributor,  yet 
I  hope  I  have  common  sense  enough  not  to  court  martyr- 
dom as  my  namesake  seems  to  have  had  a  fancy  to  do. 

I  do  not  know  but  that  I  shall  be  compelled,  Mr. 
,  to  send  you  a  full  account  of  my  travels,  to  show 


422  THE    SUNNY    SOUTH;    OR, 

you  I  never  was  arrested  by  Austrian  police,  but  in  all 
my  journeyings  behaved  myself  like  a  nice  young  wife, 
■who  has  no  taste  for  dungeons,  except  in  Mrs.  Radcliifes 
novels,  and  who  has  a  perfect  horror  of  a  diet  of  dry 
bread  and  water.  If  I  should  send  you  my  travels,  I 
should  write  about  the  wonders  of  our  voyage :  the  things 
I  saw  in  England,  what  I  saw  in  France,  the  adventures 
we  met  with  in  Spain;  of  our  sojourn  in  Florence  and 
Naples;  our  yachting  cruise  over  to  Malta,  and  the 
various  escapes  and  marvelous  incidents  which  gave  zest 
and  romance  to  our  tour ;  and  I  should  be  sure  and  not 
forget  to  tell  all  about  my  marriage,  and  how  I  saw  and 
spoke  with  the  Queen  by  an  odd  accident,  with  all  sorts 
of  things  besides. 

(But  as  I  have  promised  to  give  you  in  this  letter  a 
description  of  my  dear  home  in  the  South,  whence  I 
write  these  letters,  I  will  here  fulfill  my  promise,  and 
leave  my  "Tour  to  Europe"  for  subsequent  "Needles." 
If  you  will  take  the  map  and  find  New  Orleans,  you 
will  soon  learn  where  I  am  by  following  the  noble  Father 
of  Waters  up  as  far  as  Donaldsonville,  twenty-five  leagues 
north  from  the  city.  At  this  pretty  French  village, 
which  sleeps  half  buried  in  the  foliage  of  China  shade 
trees  and  Acacias,  is  the  mouth  of  the  lovely  stream 
called  Bayou  La  Fourche.  A  bayou  is  not,  however, 
exactly  a  stream,  but  a  sort  of  natural  canal  going 
laterally  from  one  piece  of  water  to  another,  uniting 
both ;  as  for  instance,  a  stream  flowing  from  the  Delaware 
straight  across  to  the  Schuylkill,  would  be  a  bayou.  In  this 
part  of  the  world,  where  the  green  land  is  as  level  as  the 
blue  sea,  these  intersecting  branches  form  a  net-work  of 
internal  navigation,  as  if  the  whole  land  were  cut  up  into 


THE    SOUTHERNER    AT    HOME. 

winding  canals.  This  feature  of  the  country  makes  it 
very  beautiful,  as  oaks,  and  elms,  and  laurels,  fringe 
their  banks;  and  in  their  graceful  curves  they  embrace 
now  on  one  side,  and  now  on  the  other  side,  crescent- 
shaped  meadows  waving  with  sugar  cane,  and  dotted  with 
majestic  groves  like  islands  of  foliage  resting  on  the 
bosom  of  the  pleasant  land. 

For  thirty  miles  in  the  interior  this  lovely  region  is 
level  as  the  sea,  and  islanded  by  dark  green  groves  of 
oak,  at  intervals  of  a  half  mile  or  mile  apart.  The  boat 
passes  villas  inunmerable,  whose  gardens  touch  the  water, 
and  old  French  villages  half  hid  in  shade,  while  in  the 
distance,  for  every  half  league,  tower  the  turreted  sugar- 
houses,  like  so  many  castles. 

It  would  require  a  highly  poetical  pen  to  picture  justly 
the  beauty  of  such  a  thirty  miles  trip  into  the  luxurious 
heart  of  Louisiana.  At  length  four  hours  after  leaving 
the  Mississippi,  appear,  over  the  woodlands  of  a  fine 
estate  belonging  to  an  eminent  judge,  the  spires  of 
Thibodeaux,  an  old  French  town,  extremely  quaint  and 
picturesque.  Here  the  steamer  stops  to  land  its  pass- 
engers, who  are  mostly  French,  and  will  also  land  you, 
Mr. ,  if  you  are  on  a  visit  to  see  me. 

Standing  on  the  Levee,  you  will  see  the  steamer  move 
.on  again  further  up  the  pretty  bayou,  and  still  for  an 
hour,  when  ten  miles  oif,  its  black  pillar  of  smoking 
cloud  can  be  discerned,  ascending  along  the  horizon  like 
the  jet  from  a  far-off  volcano.  If  the  steamer  you  have 
left  continues  on  her  winding  course  west  and  south  for 
five  hours,  she  will  reach  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  and  so 
passing  round  the  Gulf  coast  re-enter  the  Mississippi,  at 
its  mouth,  and  so  get  back  to  New  Orleans,  thus  com- 


424  THE  SUNNY  south:  or, 

passing,  by  the  aid  of  river,  bayou,  and  gulf,  a  complete 
circle  around  the  city  with  a  radius  of  a  hundred  miles. 
Planters  often  make  use  of  this  mode  of  communication 
to  ship  their  sugar  to  schooners  anchored  at  the  Gulf 
mouth  of  the  bayou.  If  the  English  had  been  acquainted 
with  this  inland  water  route  they  would  have  reached 
NcAV  Orleans,  surprising  it  by  a  descent  from  up  river 
upon  it. 

It  was  to  Lafitte  they  made  such  magnificent  offers  to 
pilot  them  through  such  a  bayou,  that  of  Barataria; 
which,  outlaw  as  he  was,  he  nobly  refused.  Parties  on 
excursions  from  plantations  frequently,  in  their  pleasure 
boats,  go  down  to  the  Gulf  and  spend  a  week  or  two; 
living  a  sort  of  wild  and  romantic  gipsey  life  on  the 
green  islands  that  gem  the  shore  of  the  Gulf.  One  of 
these  parties  I  recently  joined,  and  may  some  time  give 
you  a  description  of  its  pleasures  and  famous  adven- 
tures. 

But  I  will  not  leave  you  standing  any  longer  with 
carpet-bag  in  hand  on  the  Levee  of  Thibodeauville,  Mr. 

,  but  direct  you  up  the  tree-bordered  bayou  bank  to 

another  bayou,  which  comes  into  the  larger  one  close  by 
the  chief  village  street.  It  is  a  pleasant  walk.  You 
will  find  little  French  negroes  rather  troublesome,  asking 
"mass,  for  tote  he  saddle-bag;"  but  you  are  an  old 
traveler,  sir,  and  have  escaped  alive  from  the  landing 
place  at  Calais — a  dreadful  place,  and  which  I  shall 
never  forget. 

The  pretty  walk  along  the  water  bank  will,  in  five 
minutes,  bring  you  to  the  bayou,  Terre  Bonne.  Its 
course  is  at  right  angles  with  the  bayou  La  Fourche. 
Thibodeaux  village  stands  right  in  the  angle  between 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  425 

the  two,  one  being  in  front,  the  other  on  the  west  side. 
When  you  come  to  this  bayou  you  will  see  that  it  looks 
like  a  canal,  rather  than  a  natural  stream.  A  small 
bridge  crosses  it,  and  leaning  over  its  railing  you  will  see 
gray-headed  old  Frenchmen  fishing,  and  boys  catching 
shrimps  in  nets.  Trees  bend  over  them,  the  water 
sparkles  below,  brown  Creole  laundresses  are  singing  as 
they  wash  their  clothes  in  the  water,  and  altogether  it  is 
a  pretty  scene.  Near  the  bridge  you  will  see  four  or 
five  barges  or  market-boats,  with  brown  lateen  sails,  and 
laden  with  vegetables  .and  fruit.  They  are  manned  by 
two  or  three  sable-skinned  slaves,  usually  by  an  aged, 
gray-headed  African  and  an  ivory-toothed  urchin.  They 
have  come  that  morning  some  five  miles,  some  fifteen, 
from  their  master's  plantations,  to  sell  marketing,  and 
make  purchases  for  home.  These  boats  are  constantly 
going  up  and  down  this  narrow  bayou,  Terre  Bonne, 
for  it  flows  through  a  rich  and  populous  sugar  region  of 
the  finest  sugar  estates  in  the  South,  and  forms  their 
only  water  communication  with  the  villages  and  towns. 

But  you  will  be  likely  to  see,  moored  about  in  the 
shadows  of  the  bridge,  one  or  more  pleasure  yachts,  in 
which  some  members  of  the  family  have  come  up  from 
their  plantations,  situated  where  the  sky  and  level  hori- 
zon meet.  Perhaps  one  of  them  brought  down  a  freight 
of  lovely  girls  and  their  noble  dark-eyed  mamma,  and 
good-looking  aunts,  to  shop  among  the  treasures  of  dry- 
goods,  jewelry,  and  millinery,  of  the  fashionable  stores 
in  Thibodeaux ;  or,  perhaps,  a  plantation  household  of 
merry  children  are  come  up  to  the  village  to  see  the  cir- 
cus, and  especially  that  wicked,  good-for-nothing  Dandy 
Jack  ride  the  pony ;  the  boys  of  the  party  going  home 


426-  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

againj  to  turn  the  lawn  into  an  arena,  and  all  the  shaggy 
ponies  into  circus  steeds,  compelling  some  plantation 
native  Dan  Rice,  jr.,  to  be  clown." 

Or,  perhaps,  you  will  see  there  the  elegant  yacht  of 

the  two  rich  brothers,  M.  Louis  and  M.  Adolphe , 

who  have  come  up  from  their  estate,  two  hours'  sail 
down  the  bayou,  to  pass  an  afternoon,  playing  billiards, 
and  to  meet  the  young  girls  that  happen  to  be  in  town 
shopping,  from  the  neighboring  estates,  for  on  certain 
days  (usually  Saturday,  by  general  consent),  everybody  \ 
goes  to  town,  and  anybody  that  wants  to  see  anybody  is 
likely  to  find  everybody  on  the  street.  Indeed,  for  the 
surrounding  planters,  the  village  is  an  "Exchange"  on 
that  day,  not  only  for  young  fellows  and  maidens  to  ex- 
change glances,  and,  perhaps,  hearts,  but  for  their  papas 
to  get  money  for  their  sugar,  or  see  to  its  shipment,  and 
lay  in  their  stores. 

If  it  should  be  on  Saturday  that  you  arrive,  Mr. , 

you  would  see  many  a  cushioned  barge  lying  in  the  bayou 
waiting  for  its  fair  occupants  to  return  to  their  homes. 
Also,  you  would  find  no  lack  of  handsome  carriages  and 
caparisoned  saddle-horses  under  the  care  of  servants ; 
for  along  the  bayou  winds,  at  one  with  it  in  all  its  mean- 
derings,  a  summer  road,  level  as  a  bowling-alley,  bordered 
by  woodland  oaks,  orange  groves,  country-seats,  flower- 
ing gardens,  fields  of  waving  cane,  bending  with  a  bil- 
lowy motion  to  the  overpassing  wind,  like  the  surface 
of  an  emerald  sea.  If  you  wish  to  reach  my  home  early  | 
in  the  day,  you  had  best  take  the  road,  for  the  land 
route  will  bring  you  much  sooner.  But  if  you  are  at 
leisure,  and  enjoy  a  moonlight  sail,  you  will  take  one  of 
the  boats.     But  as  they  are  all  private  barges,  you  will  be 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  427 

SO  kind  as  to  step  on  board  that  one  which  you  see  is 
painted  green,  with  plum-colored  cushions  and  a  little 
flag  pendant  over  the  stern,  on  which,  when  the  wind 
blows  out  its  azure  folds,  you  will  read  "  The  Isabel." 

That  is  my  yacht,  and  I  know  your  good  taste  will 
admire  it  very  much,  and  thank  me  very  kindly,  as  you 
suppose,  for  sending  it  for  you.  But  I  did  not  send  it, 
being  ignorant  wholly  of  your  visit,  Mr. ;  never- 
theless, step  into  it,  and  tell  "Zephyr,"  which  is  the 
name  of  the  respectable-looking  negro  pilot  you  will  see 

in  care  of  it,  that  you  are  Mr. !     That  name  will 

be  a  talisman  !  You  will  see  his  eyes  shine,  and  his  lips 
open  wide,  with  a  quiet  laugh  of  internal  satisfaction. 
"  Ah,  bress  my  soul !  Missy  Kate  mity  proud  to  see 
Mass'  Editum.  I  berry  grad  to  hab  dat  honor  miself !" 
and  Zephyr  will  take  oflF  his  straw  hat  and  make  you  as 
superb  a  bow  as  a  king's,  nothing  less  dignified,  and  he 
will  then  look  around  upon  the  other  boatmen  with  an 
air  of  triumph,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  Go  'way  I  Here's 
Mass'  in  dis  boat  here !  De  greatest  gemman  in  Philla- 
mydellfum  !  Back  you  oars,  niggas  !  you  got  notin'  to 
do  in  dis  bayou  !" 

Such  would  be  Zephyr's  probable  salutation.  But  he 
will  not  at  once  set  off  with  you.  He  will  tell  you  he 
expects  Massa  and  the  ladies,  and  in  a  few  minutes  you 
will  see  a  gentleman  and  two  lovely  girls  approaching,  fol- 
lowed by  two  servants  laden  with  their  purchases.  The 
gentleman  has  a  very  dark,  handsome  countenance,  lighted 
up  by  fine  hazel  eyes.  His  complexion  is  a  rich,  warm 
brown.  He  wears  whiskers,  no  mustache,  but  his  coal- 
black  hair  flows  long  and  in  very  slight  curl  to  his  shoul- 
ders.    He  wears  a  huge  broad-brimmed  sombrero,  and  a 


428  THE    SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

complete  suit  of  white  linen.  He  has  the  quiet,  self- 
possessed  air  and  gentle  bearing  of  a  man  of  education 
and  taste.  You  will  see  that  he  is  a  "gentleman,"  and 
you  will  take  a  liking  to  him  at  sight ;  he  has  such  a 
frank  smile  and  so  handsomely  shows  his  splendid  teeth. 

Guess  who  he  is,  Mr. ?     You  would  not  suppose 

that  he  was  more  than  seven  and  twenty,  but  his  intel- 
lectual and  thoughtful  brow  gives  the  appearance  of 
three  or  four  years  more.  Not  to  keep  you  in  suspense, 
as  he  and  his  beautiful  companions  are  close  upon  you, 
I  will  introduce  you. 

"My  husband,  Mr. !" 

I  see  you  look  surprised,  and  bow  imperially,  with  a 
little  snip  of  jealousy,  for  I  know  you  were  never  recon- 
ciled to  my  getting  married!  Somehow  you  editors 
fancy  that  your  lady  contributors  are  betrothed  to  you, 
(editorially,)  and  that  the  Journal  is  their  husbands ! 
Dear  me !  what  an  idea ! 

When  Zephyr  shouts  out  your  name,  my  husband,  who 
has  already  known  you  by  reputation,  will  give  you  a 
right  down  hearty  and  hospitable  welcome ;  and  introduce 
you  to  his  sweet  cousins,  who  will  express  their  delight 
at  seeing  you ;  and  so  they  will  take  you  prisoner  into 
the  boat,  and  you  will  have  one  of  the  most  charming 
boat  rides  you  ever,  enjoyed,  for  five  hours  at  four  miles 
an  hour.  You  will  be  rowed  when  the  wind  lulls,  and  go 
under  sail  when  there  is  any  stirring.  You  will  wind 
round  sugar  fields,  you  will  pass  between  gardens,  you 
can  talk  with  the  people  as  they  sit  on  their  piazzas,  and 
perhaps  pacing  along  the  bank  road,  will  be  two  or  three 
cavaliers  who  ride  by  the  side  of  the  boat  as  it  moves  on, 
as  they  would  by  a  carriage,  and  chat  with  you.     Night 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  429 

with  its  stars  and  silvery  moon  finds  you  still  moving 
along  amid  the  bosom  of  the  beautiful  level  land,  "which, 
in  the  obscurity,  with  its  groups  of  great  trees,  seems  like 
a  dark  sea  studded  with  rounded  isles. 

Twenty  miles  from  town  you  reach  another  bayou, 
flowing  westward.  A  league  farther,  mostly  among  the 
gigantic  trees  of  a  Louisiana  forest,  and  your  boat  comes 
suddenly  into  an  open  lake,  a  mile  wide  and  three  miles 
long,  a  gem  of  lakes  buried  in  the  green  heart  of  this 
lovely  land.  A  few  minutes  afterwards  you  land  at  a 
pier  near  a  garden  gate ;  and  the  next  moment  I  grasp 
your  hand  and  welcome  you  to  my  home. 

Yours, 
Kate. 


430  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OK, 


LETTER    LVIII. 


My  Dear  Mr.  : 

In  my  last  letter  I  took  you,  will  you  nill  you,  on  a 
journey  to  my  forest-emburied  home.  Landing  you 
safely  upon  the  pier,  at  the  gate  which  enters  the  lawn 
of  live-oaks,  that  stretches  between  the  house  and  the 
beautiful  expanse  of  water  in  front,  I  gave  you  a  warm 
and  hospitable  welcome.  The  same  welcome  I  will  joy- 
fully extend  to  any  of  your  friends,  who  think  enough  of 
me  to  turn  out  of  the  way  of  the  great  Father  of  Waters, 
to  seek  me  out  amid  the  heart  of  this  lovely  region  of  the 
South. 

I  will  describe  to  you  my  home,  or  rather,  as  you  have 
been  here,  (haven't  you  ?)  I  will  imagine  you  writing  a 
description  of  what  you  saw  home  to  your  wife  in  some 
such  sort  as  follows  : 

"  Dear  Wife  : — This  epistle  is  written  at  '  Illewalla,' 
or  '  Lover's  Lake,'  which  is  the  translation  of  the  soft 
Indian  name.  It  is  the  romantic  and  charming  home  of 
my  old  correspondent,  '  Kate,  of  the  Needles.'  I  cannot, 
with  my  prosaic  pen,  begin  to  present  to  your  mind's  eye 
the  peculiar  beauty  of  this  retreat.  On  my  way  up  from 
New  Orleans  to  Louisville,  I  determined  to  stop  and  see 
my  fair  friend,  in  her  own  home ;  and  having  obtained 
the  direction,  I  embarked  at  New  Orleans  on  board  the 
steamer  '  Dr.  Beattie,'  for  Thibodeaux. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  431 

*'We  steamed  up  the  Mississippi  to  Donaldsonville, 
eighty  miles,  and  thence  diverged  into  a  narrow  stream, 
called  Bayou  Lafourche.  Along  this  winding  water  we 
sailed  thirty  miles  more,  through  a  lovely  land  of  groves, 
sugar-fields,  meadows,  villas,  and  villages.  At  Thibo- 
deaux,  I  embarked  upon  another  bayou,  crossing  the  level 
country,  and  two  hours  after  the  rising  moon,  reached 
the  abode  of  Kate,  situated  picturesquely  on  the  green 
shore  of  a  small  Indian  lake,  that  one  can  row  around  in 
an  hour.  The  shores  are  fringed  by  noble  trees,  and  bor- 
dered by  a  belt  of  the  purest  sand.  Silence  and  beauty 
reign  there.  One  fine  feature  of  this  land  is,  that  the 
forests  have  natural  lawns,  beneath  like  the  leveled  sward 
of  an  English  park.  Hence  it  is  pleasant  to  roam  on 
foot  or  ride  through  them,  and  one  can  gallop  all  around 
the  lake  amid  the  forest  trees  without  checking  bridle. 
This  lake  is  fed  by  a  living  fountain  in  its  pellucid  depths, 
and  so  clear  are  its  waters,  that  the  trout,  pickerel,  and 
other  angler's  finning  game,  can  be  seen  darting  far  be- 
neath the  surface  in  glittering  lines ;  while,  in  the  still- 
ness of  the  night,  their  splashing  leaps  at  intervals  break 
the  starry  silence. 

"At  length,  I  approached  the  house.  Vases  of  large 
size,  containing  rare  West  Indian  plants,  stood  on  each 
side  of  the  spacious  steps,  filling  the  air  with  delicious 
odors.  Crossing  the  noble  piazza,  which  was  broad 
enough  for  a  company  of  soldiers,  fourteen  abreast,  to 
march  round  upon  it,  I,  as  the  chief  guest,  was  ushered 
by  '  Kate'  into  a  wide  and  high  hall  adorned  with  exqui- 
site statuary  and  noble  pictures.  The  drawing-room 
opened  into  it.  This  was  furnished  with  light  and  elegant 
furniture,  chiefly  of  Indian-cane  and  rosewood.     Every- 


432  THE   SUNNY  SOUTH;   OR, 

thing  had  that  undenfiahle  air  of  taste  and  comfort,  with- 
out garish  show,  which  a  poetic  mind  loves  to  dwell  in. 

"I  passed  a  delightful  evening.  I  felt  perfectly  at 
home.  Col.  C,  the  husband  of  Kate,  seemed  to  vie  with 
her  in  making  me  feel  so.  The  library  opened  from  the 
drawing-room,  and  when  I  say  its  walls  were  wholly  con- 
cealed by  carved  oaken  cases,  filled  from  floor  to  ceiling 
with  all  the  wealth  of  a  real  scholar's  book-treasures  in 
all  tongues,  you  will  understand  how  elegant  and  tempt- 
ing a  place  it  is. 

"My  sleeping  apartment  opened  from  this  pleasant 
library,  and  also  looked  out  upon  the  lawn.  So  delight- 
fully situated,  I  could  not  resist  the  temptations  which  en- 
vironed me.  Instead  of  retiring,  I  lingered  till  midnight 
in  the  library,  gazing  over  the  rare  volumes  which  then, 
for  the  first  time,  met  my  eye ;  and  when  I  resolved  to 
go  to  bed,  a  glimpse  of  the  lake  through  my  window, 
shimmering  in  starry  brightness,  chained  me  to  it  for  half 
an  hour,  listening  to  the  leaping  fish,  the  distant  notes 
of  a  mocking  bird,  or  contemplating  the  calm  beauty  of 
the  scene.  It  was  past  midnight  when  I  sought  my  pil- 
low, thankful  to  the  Creator  of  the  world  that  there 
lingered  yet  on  earth  many  such  fragments  of  our  Lost 
Paradise  in  Eden ;  and  inwardly  determining  to  find  soon 
for  myself  such  a  piece  of  paradise  as  this  one,  and  under 
my  own  oaks,  dwell  at  peace,  far  from  the  roar  of  the 
drays  of  commerce,  and  the  din  of  town. 

'•Your  afiectionate  husband,  (and  all  that.)" 

There,  Mr. ,  there  is  your  letter ! — You  certainly 

describe  pretty  well,  but  permit  me  to  say,  that  I  have 
no  objections  to  your  letter,  except  that  you  did  not  say 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  433 

one  word  about  my  babe !  Now  if  you  were  a  bachelor, 
I  could  easily  account  for  this  silence;  for  it  is,  to  be 
sure,  beneath  the  dignity  of  old  bachelors  to  allude  to 
such  subjects.  But  as  you  are  a  married  man,  and  have, 
I  don't  know  how  many,  roguish  mouths  to  kiss  and  feed, 

your  silence  is  quite  shocking.     The  truth  is,  Mr. , 

you  have  never  forgiven  me  for  taking  a  husband ;  now  I 
can  assure  you  I  can  write  just  as  well,  as  when  I  was  a 
spinster,  and  perhaps  a  great  deal  better ;  for  I  shall  be 
able  to  draw  on  my  husband's  fine  mind  for  ideas  when 
my  poor  brain  runs  shallow. 

Now  that  you  and  my  dear  thousand  friends  know 
where  I  am,  and  all  about  my  home,  I  will,  for  the  rest 
of  my  "Needles,"  say  little  more  about  it.  I  only  wish 
you  all  to  know  that  I  am  charmingly  situated,  happy 
as  I  deserve  to  be,  and  only  wish  that  all  for  whom  I  take 
such  pleasure  in  writing  these  letters,  were  as  happy. 
Home  is  heaven's  type.  What  place  this  side  heaven, 
besides  "home,"  a  home  of  love  and  confidence,  resem- 
bles the  Paradise  above?  Jesus,  to  express  his  desolate- 
ness,  said  touchingly,  "I  have  not  where  to  lay  my 
head!" 

Among  the  myriads  of  elegant  and  happy  homes  of 
earth,  not  one  was  His !  There  can  be  no  more  eloquent 
expression  of  human  desolation  than  His  sad  words  con- 
vey. And  to  throw  a  sanctity  about  earth's  homes, 
(which  were  not  for  Him,)  He  calls  heaven  a  place  of 
"homes."  "In  my  Father's  house  are  many  mansions." 
There  we  shall  not  be  wanderers  through  the  infinite 
spaces  of  the  heavens,  but  shall  have  homes,  where  we 
can  gather  around  us  all  the  loved  and  lost  of  earth ! 
Let  us,  therefore,  love  our  earthly  homes,  and  make 
28 


434  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

them  as  much  like  heaven,  in  love,  as  we  can,  that  ■we 
may  be  better  fitted  for  the  heavenly  habitations  that 
adorn  the  golden  streets  of  "the  city  of  God."  With- 
out love  there  can  bo  no  true  liome,  without  home  no 
heaven. 

A  home  in  the  country  is  the  loveliest  of  all  earthly 
ones.  One  is  more  vrith  nature?  One  communes  with 
the  stars,  the  clouds,  the  trees,  the  water,  the  birds ! 
Man  was  not  made  for  towns !  Adam  and  Eve  were 
created  and  placed  in  a  garden.  Cities  are  the  results 
of  the  fall.  The  first  thought  of  the  sinful  men  after 
the  flood  was,  "  Go  to  !  Let  us  build  us  a  city !"  If  men 
had  remained  in  a  nomadic  state,  the  race  would  have 
been  far  better  and  happier,  that  is,  if  cultivated  by 
arts,  letters,  and  religion.  Cities  are  the  effects  of  sin. 
There  is  no  greater  truism  on  record  than  this,  that 
"  God  made  the  country,  and  man  made  the  town."  J 

When  I  ride  out  of  a  morning,  instead  of  threading  | 
my  way  through  crowded  and  noisy  streets,  I  canter  * 
with  joy  and  freedom  along  a  beautiful  lane  two  miles 
long,  with  waving  fields  of  sugar-cane  on  either  side, 
and  hedges  of  Cherokee  rose  bordering  the  way,  and 
shade  trees  meeting  almost  over  my  head,  their  low  and 
far-reaching  branches  sometimes  compelling  me  to  stoop 
to  the  pummel,  as  I  dart  like  a  deer  beneath.  Some- 
times, indeed,  I  have  a  race  with  a  deer  or  stag,  which, 
caught  browsing  in  the  green  lane^  and  seeing  me  com- 
ing, darts  off  like  an  arrow,  a  challenge  which  "Buc- 
cleugh,"  the  name  of  my  handsome  brown  horse,  (though 
called  "Buck"  for  short,)  never  refuses  to  accept,  nor 
his  mistress  either ;  but  we  are  always  beaten,  of  course, 
for  the  stag  seems  fairly  to  fly,  and  soon  loses  himself 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  435 

to  sight  in  the  shady  recesses  of  his  native  woodland ! 
Some  mornings  I  rise  with  the  crows,  (for  they  are  the 
earliest  risers  of  all  the  winged  fowls,)  and  take  a  can- 
ter around  my  Lake,  upon  the  white,  hard  sand-belt 
that  enriches  it.  It  is  a  three  miles'  complete  ride 
round,  and  the  only  sound  heard  in  the  stillness  is  the 
patter  of  the  hoofs  of  Buck  upon  the  beach.  On  the 
bosom  of  the  Lake  float  flotillas  of  wild  swans,  fleets 
of  black  ducks,  and  the  long-legged  heron  wades  far  out 
from  the  shore  to  catch  his  morning's  breakfast.  As  I 
advance,  I  awake  all  the  birds,  startle  the  squirrels,  and 
put  life  into  the  groves  that  border  the  Lake. 

Now  is  not  all  this  far  better  than  any  thing  a  city 
can  give?  And  then  I  can  ride  in  what  costume  I 
please.  I  can  hang  my  bonnet  on  the  pommel  of  the 
saddle  by  the  strings  and  gallop  bare-headed ;  and,  if 
I  want  to  sing  and  shout,  I  can  do  so,  as  loud  as  I 
please,  and  nobody  to  say  a  word  about  "propriety"  and 
"  becomingness,"  and  all  that  primness ;  nobody  but 
Mr.  Echo,  who  always  joins  in  with  me,  and  shouts  as 
loud  as  I !  A  merry  and  social  solitary  gentleman  of 
the  forest  he  is,  who  never  ventures  into  cities,  but  keeps 
all  his  accomplishments  for  the  country ;  but  then  he  will 
always  have  the  last  word  ! 

A  favorite  termination  of  my  ride  is  a  little  mound, 
green  and  flower-besprent,  about  half  round  the  Lake 
and  close  to  the  water.  It  is  called  the  grave  of 
Norkamah  and  Anama,  two  Indian  lovers  of  hostile 
tribes,  who,  rather  than  be  separated,  walked  one  moon- 
light night,  their  arms  folded  about  one  another,  slowly 
out  into  the  Lake,  singing  as  they  went,  their  death- 
song.     This  was  their  doom,  to  which  the  chiefs  con- 


436  THE  SUNNY  south;  or, 

demned  them,  unless  they  would  cease  to  love  !  Cease 
to  love !  How  little  those  stern  warriors  knew  of  the 
hearts  of  the  young  !  how  little  knew  what  youthful  love 

is  !     Cease  to  love  !     True  love  never  ceases,  Mr. ! 

It  is  immortal !  As  well  might  these  chiefs  say  to  the 
rose-tree,  Cease  to  blossom !  to  the  full  fountain,  Cease 
to  flow !  to  the  stars.  Cease  to  shine !  as  to  the  young 
heart,  "  Cease  to  love  !" 

So  they  could  not  cease  to  love,  Norkamah  and  Ana- 
ma,  and  with  hand  clasped  in  hand,  and  singing,  they 
walked  down  in  the  water.  Their  song  ceased  only  when 
their  lips  were  kissed  by  the  limpid  waves  that  opened 
to  make  within  their  deep  bosom  a  grave  for  love  ! 

Hence  the  Lake  is  called  Ulewalla,  or  Lover's  Lake. 
Their  spirit-forms  are  said  to  hover  about  the  place 
where,  on  the  banks,  their  bodies  are  buried  in  one 
grave,  above  which  the  Indian  youths  and  maidens 
erected  the  green  mound  that  now  marks  the  spot.  It 
is  said  that  on  the  anniversary  of  the  night  of  their 
death,  they  are  seen  coming  up  out  of  the  water,  toge- 
ther, as  they  went  down  into  it,  arrayed  in  pure  white, 
with  a  star  upon  each  brow,  and  that  they  are  heard  to 
sing  not  their  mournful  death-song,  but  a  song  that  tells 
of  never-dying  love  !  and  that  all  the  singing  birds  take 
up  the  sweet  refrain  from  every  tree,  and  that  the  whole 
shore  of  the  Lake  is  vocal  with 

*•  Love,  love,  never  ceases !  Oh,  love  never  dies  !" 

A  pretty  idea,  Mr. ,  and  I  wish  some  one  of  your 

talented  poetic  correspondents  would  put  the  words  into 
a  song.  Very  truly  yours, 

ILlTE. 


THE   SOUTHERNER  AT  HOME.  437 


LETTER    LIX. 


Dear  Mr. : 

This  evening,  about  an  hour  before  sundown,  I  was 
seated  in  the  library,  looking  over  a  port-folio  of  superb 
engravings,  which  my  ever  attentive  husband  had  brought 
with  him  from  New  Orleans,  as  a  birth-day  gift  to  me ; 
for  he  is  very  good  to  remember  every  anniversary  in 
any  way  associated  with  me,  or  my  happiness.  One  of 
these  engravings  was  a  large  representation  of  "The 
Descent  from  the  Cross."  While  I  was  sadly  contem- 
plating it,  and  trying  to  realize  that  such  a  scene  had 
actually  passed  on  earth,  I  heard  behind  me  an  exclama- 
tion from  my  old  black  nurse,  "Aunt  Winny,"  "Bress 
de  Lor' !  dat  am  zact  image  ob  de  Lor' !" 

I  looked  round  and  beheld  the  eyes  of  the  good  old 
African  woman  fixed  steadily  and  in  a  sort  of  adoring 
wonder  upon  the  pale,  majestic  face  of  the  pictured  Sa- 
viour. In  her  arms  struggled  little  Harry,  with  hands 
and  feet  outstretched  to  get  at  the  picture,  for  he  has  a 
great  fancy  for  engravings. 

"Sure,  de  young  Mass'  Harry  shall  see  it!  Look, 
Missis,  how  he  lobe  de  Saviour  'ready  !"  and  she  held  the 
child  so  near  that  it  put  out  its  little  rose-bud  mouth  and 
kissed  the  face  of  Christ ;  for  the  little  fellow  is  full  and 
running  over  with  love,  and  kisses  everything  that  pleases 
him,  sometimes  his  toys  and  bouquets ;  and  once,  I  caught 


4o8  THE  SUNNY  south;  or, 

him  kissing  with  great  delight  his  own  little,  chubby,  dim- 
pled arm. 

"  De  raarcy  !  Did  you  see  dat,  Missy  Kate  !"  ex- 
claimed Aunt  Winny,  with  amazement  and  joy.  "  Dis 
chir  good  nuff  to  go  rite  up  to  Heaben !  who  ebber  see 
de  like  ?" 

Aunt  Winny,  with  her  Nubian-eyed  daughter  Eda, 
"was  a  present  to  me  from  the  colonel,  Isabel's  father, 
whom  I  trust  you  have  not  forgotten.  Isabel  is  living 
near  Mobile,  on  the  Lake  Ponchartrain,  in  an  elegant 
villa,  in  sight  of  the  sea ;  and  as  I  shall  soon  pay  her  a 
visit,  you  will  hear  from  her  through  my  gossiping  pen. 
She  is  a  dear,  good,  old,  pious  soul,  (I  mean  Aunt  Winny,) 
and  looked  up  to  by  the  rest  of  the  servants  as  a  sort  of 
saint,  en  silhouette. 

"  Aunt  Winny,  how  came  you  to  say  this  face  in  the 
picture  is  that  of  the  blessed  Lord ?"  I  asked;  for  I 
knew  that  there  was  a  devoutly  believed  tradition  in  the 
.colored  part  of  the  family  that  "  she  had  seen  Jesus  in  a 
vision ;"  and  I  presumed  her  remark  had  in  some  way 
reference  to  this. 

"  Coz,  Missy  Kate,  I  hab  de  fabor  of  habbin  see  de 
Lor',"  answered  Winny,  with  a  solemn  air. 

"  How  was  it,  Aunt  Winny,  and  when  ?"  I  asked. 

"Ah,  bress  de  baby  !  If  he  wos  on'y  quiet  one  minute, 
and  not  kick  so  like  a  young  bear,  I'd  gib  you  my  'xpe- 
rience." 

"I  would  like  to  hear  it  of  all  things,"  I  answered. 
"  Florette  shall  take  Harry  down  to  the  Lake  to  see  Nep- 
tune swim." 

So  the  noisy  little  fellow  was  transferred  to  a  pretty, 
little,  dark-eyed,  Creole  maid  of  fifteen,  who  speaks  only 


THE   SOUTHEKNER   AT   HOME.  439 

French,  and  which  my  husband's  mother  presented  to  me ; 
and  who  acts  as  a  sort  of  sub-nurse  to  Aunt  Winny,  Eda 
being  as  formerly  my  tasteful  dressing  maid. 

"Well,  Missy  Kate,  de  Lor'  is  good!  I  hope  to  lib 
to  see  dat  Mass'  Harry  a  grand  Bishop.  He  knoAv'd  dc 
Lor'  soon  as  he  seed  him  on  de  pictur' !  Sartain  de  chil' 
did.  But  den  babies  is  so  little  while  ago  come  from  the 
Lor'  up  in  Heaben,  dat  dey  a'n't  had  time  to  forgot  him. 
Dat  de  reason  Mass'  Harry  'member  him  and  kiss 
him ! " 

"  This  was  a  good  reason,  no  doubt.  Aunt  Winny,"  I 
said  ;  "  but  now  to  your  experience.  While  I  am  finish- 
ing this  piece  of  crochet-work,  you  tell  me  your  whole 
story." 

The  dear,  good,  old  woman,  whose  face  is  the  very 
picture  of  human  kindness,  (done  on  a  black  ground,)  then 
clasped  her  hands  in  a  pious  way  and  rolled  her  white- 
orbed  eyes  solemnly  to  the  ceiling — a  queer  expression, 
which  little  Harry,  who  imitates  everything,  has  caught 
to  perfection,  giving  it  with  the  drollest  precision.  She 
then  heaved  a  long  sigh  and  began : — 

"  You  sees,  Missy  Kate,  I  wos  com'  from  ol'  Wirginny 
to  Tennessee,  an'  I  had  a  heap  o'  troubles  leavin'  my 
folks,  an'  two  childer,  an'  everybody  I  know'd  way  'hind 
me.  So  I  felt  drefful  bad-like,  and  took  on  miserable 
about  it ;  an'  aftel*  we'd  got  into  Tennessee,  and  moves 
to  Big  Barren  Creek,  I  cried  many  a  night  about  it ; 
and  went  'bout  mazin'  sorry-like  all  day,  a  wishin  I  was 
dead  and  buried !" 

"Why,  Aunt  Winny!" 

"Yiss,  I  did.  Missis!  I  wasn't  'ligious  then,  and 
didn't  know  how  to  take  troubles.     Well,  one  day  as  I 


4W  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

was  gwine  down  to  de  spring  in  de  hollor,  I  hearn  a  voice 
right  ober  my  head.     It  say, 

" '  What  you  do  now  ?  You  got  nobody  care  for  you 
in  dis  wir  country!  Whar  you  get  friend  but  Jesus 
Christ?' 

"Bress  de  Lor',  Missis,  it  made  me  look  up  skeared 
eenamost  to  nothin',  coz  there  wasn't  no  tree  nor  nothin' 
it  could  come  from  ober  head,  on'y  de  open  blue  sky." 

"But  did  you  hear  a  voice?"  I  asked  with  a  tone  ex- 
pressive of  my  full  scepticism. 

"Hear?  bress  de  heart!  to  be  sure.  Missy  Kate,  I  did 
hear  de  voice  plain  as  I  heard  you  speak  dis  blessed 
minute.  It  sounded  like  a  silver  trumpet  speakin'  to 
me!" 

■    "Where  did  you  ever  hear  a  silver  trumpet  speak?"  I 
asked  wickedly  of  the  good  woman. 

"Nebber,  Miss,  but  den  I  hear  read  bout  'em  in  der 
Bible,  and  knows  how  I  tinh  dey  sound." 

This  was  emphatically  said,  and  silenced  me. 

"  This  voice  I  know'd  was  Master  Jesus  Christ  himself 
talkin',"  resumed  the  old  nurse  with  dignity.  "It  made 
me  feel  mighty  bad,  and  I  determined  from  dat  minnet 
I'd  get  deligion!  Well,  Missy  Kate,"  continued  Aunt 
Winny  with  a  sigh,  "I  was  four  long  months  fightin' 
hard  wid  de  Debbil." 

"What,  have  you  seen  that  gentleman  in  black?"  I 
asked  of  my  nurse,  with  a  grave  face. 

"He  any  ting  but  gemman.  Missy,"  answered  the 
African  lady  with  a  look  of  indignation;  "and  he  an't 
black,  but  red  as  a  coal  ob  fire — gist  a  fireman  all  ober. 
Seen  him.  Missis?  I  seen  him  fifty  times,  and  onct  I 
had  'mazin'  hard  fight  wid  him !     He  wos  use  to  gib 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  441 

me  mortal  trouble  when  I  wos  tryin'  to  git  deligion,  but 
vrhensomebber  T  seen  him  comin',  I  sot  to  prayin'  desput, 
an'  he  put  off  wid  hesef,  for  de  Debbil  can't  stan'  a 
prayer,  no  howl     He  get  out  ob  de  way  rite  off." 

"How  did  he  look,  Aunt  Winny?"  I  asked. 

"  Oh,  dear  sus !  I  couldn't  tell  ye,  Missy  Kate,  but  he 
was  drefful  ugly  beas',  an'  hab  cloyen  hoof  and  sebben 
horns,  and  a  switchin'  tail.  But,  bress  de  goodness !  he 
don't  come  near  me  now  !  He  han't  troubled  me  for  good 
many  year  since  I  got  deligion.  He  lo%t  one,  when  he 
los'  me ,'" 

This  last  sentence  was  enunciated  with  great  unction 
and  emphasis ;  and  accompanied  by  a  look  of  pious  satis- 
faction. 

"Well,  Missy  Kate,"  resumed  the  old  nurse,  "I  wor 
four  months  tryin'  hard  to  git  deligion  an'  I  couldn't." 

"And  why.  Aunt  Winny?"  I  asked  gravely. 

"Because  you  sees,  I  wosn't  born  agen.  Nobody  can 
git  deligion,"  she  added  with  reverent  looks,  "till  dey  is 
born  ob  de  Sperit !  Don't  you  'member.  Missis,  how  ol' 
Nicodemus  was  stumped  on  dat  kwestion?  But  I  didn't 
know  bout  de  Bible  den  as  I  does  now.  Now  I  can  read 
ebbery  word  ob  it." 

'■^Read  the  Bible,  Aunt  Winny?"  I  exclaimed  with 
surprise,  knowing  she  could  not  read  at  all. 

"To  be  sures  I  ken.  Missis,"  answered  Winny  with 
dignity.  "I  reads  it  by  de  eye  ob  faith,  Bress  your 
dear  heart.  Miss  Kate,  when  we  is  born'd  agen,  we  can 
read  Scriptur'  doctrine  jis  de  same  wid  de  eye  ob  faith 
as  white  folk  can  wid  de  eye  ob  de  flesh  if  dey  isn't 
born'd  agen.  Didn't  de  'postles  speak  languages  dey 
nebber  larnt  when  de  Holy  Sperit  descended  'pon  dere 


442  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

heads?  ?  Sure  dej  did,  sure.  It  teach  me  all  de  Scrip- 
tur'  doctrin'  since  I  Was  born  de  last  time !  Well, 
Missis,  I  didn't  know  nothin'  bout  Scriptur'  doctrin'  in 
dem  days,  poor  ignorum  black  woman,  an'  so  I  prayed 
and  kept  on  prayin',  and  it  didn't  do  no  good,  and  jiss 
cOz  I  wosn't  baptized." 

"And  how  did  you  j&nd  out  you  ought  to  be  baptized?" 
I  inquired  of  the  good  old  lady ;  and  here  let  me  insert 
that  I  have  taken  down  this  conversation  actually  as  it 
occurred  ;  and  that  I  record  it,  not  with  any  irreverence 
for  such  a  sacred  subject,  but  to  show  how  religion  af- 
fects the  mind  of  the  thoughtful  slave.  Doubtless 
thousands  of  the  poor  pious  negroes  can  relate  experi- 
ences and  spiritual  operations  almost  precisely  similar ; 
hence  the  deep  interest  which  attaches  to  a  fair  recital 
of  one  of  them,  as  in  the  case  of  Aunt  Winny.  Nearly 
all  negroes,  according  to  themselves,  are  converted  by 
some  great  miracle.  This  is  the  test  of  their  being  re- 
ligious with  each  other.  A  conversion  without  a  "  mar- 
vel" in  it  goes  for  nothing  among  them. 

"I  foun'  out  in  dis  way,  Missis,"  answered  Aunt 
Winny.  "You  see  I  prayed  all  de  time  I  could  git.  I 
"wos  in  a  wild  country,  and  had  no  'lations  nor  kin  of  no 
kind  dere,  and  I  felt  lonely  like,  and  I  knew  if  I  could 
get  Jesus  Christ  to  love  me,  he'd  be  'lations,  an'  friends,, 
and  childer,  an'  ebbery  ting  to  me.  So,  one  day,  as  I 
was  a-prayin'  'hind  a  bush,  I  felt  a  hand  laid  rite  on  de 
top  of  my  head,  dis  a- way!  (here  Aunt  Winny  suited 
the  action  to  the  word,)  and  a  voice  sed,  '  Sinner,  when 
are  you  gwine  to  be  baptize?'  Dis  was  nuflf!  I  seed  den 
wot  I  wanted !  So  I  went  rite  off  and  told  the  preacher 
(his  name  was  Petitt,  Miss)  now  as  I  wanted  to  be  bap- 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  443 

tize.  Well,  de  branch  was  up  wid  a  oberflow,  and  he 
couldn't  do  it  den ;  an'  when  de  branch  got  low  he  was 
took  sick,  and  so  it  was  three  week  afore  I  could  get 
baptize.  But  oh,  I  saw  Jesus  an'  de  angels  in  dem  free 
weeks!"  she  added  clasping  her  hands  in  a  sort  of  devo- 
tional ecstasy. 

"How  was  that,  Aunt  Winny?"  I  asked,  laying 
down  the  crochet-work  I  was  upon,  and  looking  her 
with  some  surprise,  full  in  the  face. 

"I  was  comin'  home  from  a  neighbor's  whar  I'd  been 
on  a  narran'.     All  at  onct  I  seed  de  hebben  open—" 

"Over  your  head?" 

"No,  Missis,  not  'zaetly  ober  my  head,  but  in  de  east 
like — right  ober  in  de  east  quarter;  an'  dere  I  see  Jesus 
Christ  standin'  up  in  hebben,  wid  he  arms  stretched  out, 
dis  a-way,"  (here  she  suited  the  action  to  the  word,) 
"and  smiling  on  millions  ob  thousand  ob  angels,  dat 
were  lookin'  so  happy,  an'  smilin',  and  praisin'  God; 
you  nebber  see  any  ting  so  b'u'ful.  Missis !  an'  I  see  de 
line  oh  marJc,  straight  as  a  clo'se  line,  drawn  across  ober 
de  hebben  to  separate  de  bad  folk  from  de  good  people 
ob  de  Lord." 

"Then  you  saw  had  folks  in  heaven.  Aunt  Winny?" 

"No,  Missis,  not  in  hebben,  but  kind  o'  one  side  like 
— on  de  lef  han',  an'  de  line  keep  'em  back !  Oh,  no,  I 
seed  no  had  folks  dar,  dey  couldn't  come  dar  at  all !  dey 
couldn't  get  ober  dat  line !  De  Lor'  an'  de  angels  wos 
all  clothe  in  clouds." 

"In  clouds,  Aunt  Winny?" 

"Yes,  Missis;  in  de  brightest  clouds  ebber  was! 
Ebbery  one  ob  dem  hab  a  star  shining  on  he  forehead, 
and  a  splendimos'  cloud,  like  de  rainbow,  floatin'  'bout 


444  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

der  bodies  like  de  robe  ob  righteousness.  Ah,  Missis,  it 
wos  de  handsomest  site  ebber  any  body  see!" 

"  Did  you  see  any  black  folks  in  heaven  among  the 
angels?" 

"Plenty,  Missis,"  answered  Winny,  with  emphasis. 
"But  dey  wasn't  black  dere, — not  one  ob  'em,  but  white 
as  de  angels,  an'  der  faces  shine  like  Moses'  face,  an' 
dey  hab  shinin'  clouds  'bout  'em  too !  /  expec'  to  be  dere 
one  ob  dese  days,  bless  God !  Black  ?  no,  no !  No  hlacJe 
skin  dere — all  white  as  de  light!" 

"And  have  you  seen  heaven  since  then.  Aunt 
Winny?" 

"Oh,  dear  sus!  Whenebber  I  feels  happy,  I  can  see 
hebben  any  time.  Eye  ob  faith  see  any  ting !  Don't  I 
know  my  Saviour?  I  seen  Him  too  often  not  to  know 
Him  as  quick  as  I  knows  you,  Missy  Kate.  An'  now  I 
tell  you  'bout  my  baptism !  Soon  as  I  was  put  under 
water  I  seed  hebben  agen,  an'  hear  de  angels  shoutin' 
ober  head,  'Glory!'  an'  soon  as  I  wos  lifted  out  again,  de 
Sperit  lit  rite  on  my  shoulder,  like  a  little  bird,  an' 
whispered  in  my  ear  dese  words,  and  I  hearn  'em  as 
plain  as  I  hearn  you  speak  jus  now ;  he  say — 

"  'De  whom  I  am  well  pleasen !'  " 

"Said  what?"  I  asked,  with  amazement,  and  not 
fully  comprehending  the  first  word. 

"'De"whom  I' am  well  pleasen,'  he  said  to  me,"  an- 
swered Winny,  with  marked  decision.  "Well,  I  know'd 
den  I  was  born  agen !  I  felt  happy  as  I  could  live !  I 
went  home  a-shoutin'  'Glory  an'  amen!'  an'  I  seemed  to 
hear  all  de  birds  in  de  woods  singing  '  glory'  too !  De 
next  mornin',  when  I  got  up  afore  day,  to  go  into  de 
field,  I  saw  a  light  fill  de  cabin,  an'  when  I  look,  I  see 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT    HOME.  445 

it  shinin'  out  of  my  hand.  When  I  look,  I  see  writ  in- 
side ob  it  on  de  palm  de  name  dat  no  one  can  read  but 
dem  as  is  born  agen,  an'  dey  has  it  writ  on  dere  palms 
an'  on  dere  hearts." 

"You  must  be  mistaken,  Aunt  Winny,  about  seeing 
this  writing,"  I  said,  with  manifest  incredulity. 

"No,  I  wosn't,  Missis!  I  seed  it  plain  as  eber  I  seed 
de  writin'  you  make  wid  you  pen  at  dat  writin'  desk, 
ony  dis  wos  gold  writin'.  When  I  shet  my  hand  it  was 
dark  in  de  room ;  when  I  open  de  palm,  it  was  bright  as 
moonlight." 

"  Could  you  read  the  writing,  Aunt  Winny?" 

"  Yes,  sure  and  plain  enough,  by  de  eye  ob  faith,  an* 
soon  as  I'd  read,  it  just  faded  out,  and  went  up  my  arm 
an'  into  my  heart,  and  dere  it  was  'graven  on  my  heart, 
and  dere  it  is  now,  an'  Jesus  Christ  will  read  it  dere  at 
de  last  day,  and  know  who  am  his  !" 

"But  what  was  the  writing,  Winny?" 

"  Dat  can't  be  read  nor  know'd  but  by  faith.  It's 
writ  on  my  heart — dat's  all  /want.  Missis,"  answered 
the  old  black  lady,  (for  a  lady  Winny  is,  as  well  as  a 
pious  good  soul,)  with  a  solemn  air,  and  an  expression 
of  inward  hope  and  faith. 

Some  further  questions  and  answers  of  no  particular 
moment  terminated  our  conversation,  and  Aunt  Winny, 
making  me  a  low  courtesy  for  my  kindness  in  listening 
to  her,  left  to  look  after  Harry. 

This  whole  "confession"  was  so  extraordinary — it 
came  so  unexpectedly,  from  such  a  staid,  quiet  old  body 
as  Aunt  Winny — it  was  such  a  complete  and  continuous 
history  of  religious  experience  in  an  uncultivated  mind — 
it  gives  such  an  insight  into  the  alleged  modus  operandi 


446  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

of  conversion  among   our  African  population — it  pre- 
sents, altogether,  such  a  history  of  mingled  truth  and  I 
error,  faith  and  superstition,  that  I  could  not  resist  pen- 
ning it  down  at  once  for  your  perusal  and  reflection. 

It  was  told,  too,  in  the  most  serious  and  earnest  man-  1 
ner,  with  such  sincerity  of  look  and  tone  of  voice,  and 
such  absence  of  fanaticism  or  excitement  in  telling  it, 
that  I  could  not  but  respect  her  "faith;"  and  I  have 
more  than  once  asked  myself,  "May  it  not  be  possible  I 
that  God  has  "hid  these  things  from  the  wise,"  and  I 
"revealed  them  unto  babes?" 

The  whole  "experience"  furnishes  subject  for  profound 
and  serious  meditation.  There  can  be  no  doubt  of  Aunt 
Winny's  'piety.  She  is  a  good  Christian  woman  in  all 
her  daily  walk  and  conversation.  She  would  not  wil- 
fully speak  an  untruth.  She  is  not  given  to  "high- 
flights  ;"  but,  on  the  contrary,  is  usually  staid  and  sober- 
minded.  How  do  we  know  that  God  does  not  vouchsafe 
special  and  peculiar  revelations  to  the  ignorant,  who 
cannot  read  His  word  ?  May  He  not,  to  the  poor  Afri-  i 
can,  who  otherwise  cannot  know  Him,  reveal  what  to  the 
wiser  is  concealed?  for  the  wiser  may  have  access  directly 
to  God's  word.  | 

These  ideas  shape  themselves  into  questions  under  I 
my  pen,  and  questions  they  must  ever  here  remain  ;  for, 
in  this  world,  they  will  find  no  answers.  Not  knowing 
all  the  "  secrets  of  God,"  we  ought  not  to  despise  one 
of  these  "  little  ones,"  who  believe  in  Him,  and  "  whose 
angels  always  behold  the  face  of  the  Father."  I 

The  assertion  that  negroes  are  highly  imaginative,  | 
and  that  all  negroes  have  similar  notions,  does  not  les-  | 
sen  the  impression  which  such  an  "  experience"  as  the  | 


•  THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  447 

above  makes  upon  the  mind  ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  serves 
to  render  it  more  striking.  The  universal  experience, 
from  their  own  confession,  that  they  have  such  revela- 
tions, would  lead  irresistibly  to  the  conclusion  that  they 
do  have  them. 

I  now  hear  you,  Mr. ,  putting  the  question  point- 
direct — 

"  Do  you.  Lady  of  the  Needles,  believe  Aunt  Winny 
saw  all  and  heard  all  she  says  that  she  did?" 

Now,  my  answer  to  this  very  inquisitive  interrogatory 
from  you,  whereby  you  desire  to  commit  me,  you  will 
please  find  in  Proverbs,  xxiz.  11. 

Yours  respectfully, 

Kate. 


448  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR. 


LETTER    LX. 

DjgAR  Mr. : 

I  HAVE  been  down  to  the  great  city  since  I  last 
wrote  you.  Leaving  my  quiet  Lake  home  early  in  the 
morning,  on  Monday  last,  we  reached  Thibodeaux  village 
in'  time  to  take  the  steamer  down  the  La  Fourche,  which 
brought  us  in  sight  of  the  city  just  at  twilight.  It  was 
a  superb  and  bewildering  spectacle,  as  we  steamed  in  the 
gathering  darkness  past  a  thousand  lights  from  ships, 
and  streets,  and  buildings,  and  the  roar  of  the  city  came 
off  to  my  ears  across  the  water,  like  the  sound  of  the 
surge  of  old  Ocean. 

Eor  a  country  lady,  like  myself,  the  bustle  of  the  city 
completely  confounded  my  poor  head  when,  the  next  day, 
I  walked  about  shopping,  for  I  had  not  been  beyond  the 
noise  of  the  woodpecker  for  twenty  months.  What  sur- 
prised my  rustic  head  was  first  the  new  fashions.  I  saw 
the  ladies  not  only  did  not  wear  their  bonnets  still  on 
their  heads,  but  on  their  shoulders,  and  that  the  style  of 
walking  was  to  lift  the  skirts  and  display  an  extraordi- 
nary surface  to  the  eyes  of  passers-by  of  intensely  white 
petticoat !  At  first,  I  thought  it  was  accidental  in  the 
fair  promenader  to  escape  a  pond  of  tobacco  saliva  on 
the  walk,  and  I  was  only  assured  of  its  being  "the 
fashion"  by  a  remark  from  Chloe,  my  waiting  woman, 
who  was  walking  behind  me,  dressed  in  a  neat  black  silk, 


THE    SOUTHERXER    AT    HOME.  449 

and  a  crimson  handkerchief  tied  turban-wisc  upon  her 
head,  the  usual  head-dress  of  the  colored  aristocracy.' 

"  Do  see.  Missus  !    Did  ebber  know  de  like  ?" 

"  What  is  it,  Chloe  ?" 

"All  de  ladieses  holds  up  de  dress  mighty  high,  I  tink 
it  fashum,  Missy  Kate  !" 

Its  prevalence  convinced  me  that  Chloe  was  right.  In 
half  an  hour  more,  what  should  I  see  but  old  Chloe  step- 
ping along  with  her  skirt  in  her  hand,  looking  as  fashion- 
able as  any  of  them?  Imitation  is  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  features  of  the  negro  race.  They  originate 
nothing,  imitation  is  nature  in  them  and  irresistible. 
How  absurd  are  fashions  !  How  they  can  destroy  deli- 
cacy, and  even  modesty  !    At  the  house  of  M.  de  S , 

where  I  passed  the  evening  of  the  day,  I  saw  two  young 
ladies,  who  wore  their  dresses  so  low  in  front  as  to  make 
me  blush  for  them,  who,  a  year  ago,  would  have  blushed 
and  felt  deeply  mortified  and  ashamed  to  have  been 
caught  by  a  gentleman  in  this  nude  dishabille ;  yet  now 
they  were  smiling,  and  talking,  and  seemingly  as  uncon- 
scious of  immodesty,  as  if  they  were  not  compelling  the 
venerable  Roman  Catholic  Bishop,  whom  they  were  talk- 
ing with,  to  drop  his  eyes  to  the  floor.* 

American  girls  are,  I  believe,  purer  and  more  maidenly 
delicate  than  those  of  any  other  nation.     I  pray  that 

*  [Having  seen,  perhaps,  considerably  more  of  the  world 
than  our  much  esteemed  correspondent,  "Dear  Kate"  must 
excuse  us  if  we  differ  from  her  in  the  assumed  and  sweep- 
ing conclusions  at  which  she  arrives,  and  also  as  to  the  utility 
of  printing  all  her  conclusions  in  reference  to  the  doubtless  in- 
nocent votaries  of  that  very  changeable,  and,  to  say  the  least, 
oftimes  most  imprudent  goddess,  Fashion. — Ed.  A.  C] 
29 


450  THE   SUNNY    SOUTH;    OR,  i 

they  may  continue  to  merit  this  distinction.  But  so  long 
as  they  slavishly  copy  the  fashions  set  by  corrupt  courts 
— by  ladies  in  France  and  England — and  outwardly  wear 
the  livery  of  vice,  they  will  forfeit  a  pre-eminence  that 
they  have  hitherto  enjoyed.  These  fashions  are  usually 
started  by  women  who  have  no  character ;  indeed,  the 
style  of  the  fashion  shows  how  impure  the  mind  was  that 
originated  it.  If  gentlemen  see  ladies  following  such 
fashions,  they  have  a  right  to  suppose  that  they  are  no 
better  in  heart  than  in  dress ;  and  have  characters  of  the 
same  value  with  the  inventors  of  these  immodest  and  un- 
lady-like  fashions.  Upon  my  word,  I  have  no  patience  I 
with  my  fair  countrywomen,  when  they  let  milliners  and 
mantua-makers  lead  them  by  the  chin  at  their  pleasure. 
If  the  Amazonian  custom  of  dropping  the  dress  from  the 
left  shoulder  entirely  to  the  waist  were  introduced,  I  fear  | 
that  there  would  be  found  foolish  girls  enough  to  adopt 
it,  throwing  delicacy  overboard,  for  the  sake  of  fashion, 
as  they  now  do  in  their  immodestly  low  dresses. 

And  then  the  way  the  bonnets  have  been,  and  are  still 
worn  !  hanging  almost  down  the  back  !     What  should  we 
think  of  a  gentleman  wearing  his  hat  in  such  a  style  ?  h 
But  the  girls  say  :  "  There  are  no  other  sorts  of  bonnets  i 
made,  or  to  be  had  at  the  milliners'  !"  1 

Without  doubt  they  speak  the  truth.  But  what  right  ■' 
have  milliners  to  compel  the  wearing  of  such  bonnets 
that  wont  stay  on  the  head?  American  ladies  put 
themselves  too  submissively  into  the  hands  of  these  Mes- 
dames  de  la  Mode !  The  only  way  to  destroy  their 
bondage,  and  have  liberty  and  independence,  is  for  the 
real  haut  ton  ladies  to  form  a  "  Club  of  Fashions," — an 
Academic  des  Modes — choose  a  President  and  twenty-four 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  451 

directors,  and  appoint  committees  on  the  fashions  as  they 
come  out,  and  alter,  and  add,  or  take  away,  as  their  taste 
dictates,  before  it  receives  their  seal  and  signature ! 
They  also  should  have  the  privilege  of  originating  fa- 
shions. As  we  are  politically  independent  of  Europe, 
let  us  be  so  in  fashions.  Let  this  "  Club  of  Fashions"  be 
established  in  the  principal  cities,  with  inter-communica- 
tion continually  kept  up  by  interchanging  "  reports ;" 
let  it  meet  four  times  a  year  to  decide  upon  the  fashions 
for  each  season,  both  of  hats  and  of  dresses,  for  Winter, 
Spring,  Summer,  and  Autumn.  Let  them  issue  a  Ga- 
zette of  fashions,  to  be  published  quarterly ;  and  let  the 
American  ladies  yield  graceful  submission  to  this  Ameri- 
can Congress  of  Modes,  and  so  emancipate  themselves 
from  the  corrupt  fashions  which  great  ladies,  of  doubtful 
position,  in  Europe,  and  milliners  of  uncultivated  taste, 
force  upon  the  good  sense  and  pure  taste  of  American 
women.  Such  a  club  would  give  a  tone  to  fashion  that 
it  is  sadly  in  want  of;  and  if  fashions  must  rule,  let  them 
rule  with  authority,  dignity,  and  grace,  in  the  hands  of 
our  lovely,  and  modest,  and  tasteful  American  dames. 

I  wish  you,  my  dear  Mr. ,  to  advocate  this  mea- 
sure with  all  your  talent  and  skill.  I  fear  you  will  think 
this  Needle  is  rather  more  keenly  pointed  than  usual ; 
but  go  into  a  ball-room  and  see  if  it  is  not  merited — that 
is,  if  you  are  not  too  modest  to  see. 

There  is  something  very  amusing  in  the  universality 
which  an  absurd  fashion  speedily  attains.  On  the  first 
day  of  May,  1854,  ladies  appeared  on  Broadway  with 
their  bonnets  resting  on  their  necks.  Three  weeks 
afterwards  girls  rejoiced  in  hanging  bonnets  by  their 
combs  in  Portland,  Maine,  and  in  New  Orleans,  and  in 


452  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OE, 

St.  Louis;  and  in  two  months  more  the  girls  of  San 
Francisco  bared  the  tops  of  their  heads  to  the  sun  and 
rain ;  and  by  this  time  this  ridiculous  fashion  is  in  vogue 
at  the  Sandwich  Islands !  Twenty  years  ago  there  were, 
in  New  Orleans,  (so  an  elderly  gentleman  tells  me,)  more 
veils  seen  in  the  streets  than  bonnets ;  and  even  now  one 
sees  this  graceful  ornament  of  the  head  without  the 
bonnet.  Why  not  drop  the  bonnet  altogether,  since  it 
it  is  of  so  little  use,  and  wear  the  veil  a  la  Espanola  ? 
Ladies  would  lose  nothing  and  gain  every  thing  in  grace 
and  elegance. 

Our  object  in  going  to  the  city  was  to  lay  in  stores 
and  clothing  for  the  plantation,  and  for  my  husband  to 
dispose  of  his  sugar,  and  also  to  purchase  a  few  luxuries, 
among  which  was  a  rocking  horse  for  Harry,  and  other 
playthings.  We  did  not  forget  all  the  late  publications, 
some  of  which  I  will  give  you  my  unasked  opinion  of, 
when  I  have  read  them. 

We  are  preparing  for  our  pic-nic  to  the  Gulf,  to  be  gone 
ten  days.  The  party  will  consist  of  eleven  of  us,  not 
including  servants.  We  start  the  day  after  to-morrow. 
The  young  gentlemen  who  are  to  join  us  are  busy  in 
preparing  their  guns  and  fishing  apparatus.  Champagne, 
and  fruits,  and  delicacies  of  all  sorts,  have  been  ordered 
for  the  occasion;  and  we  anticipate  a  merry  and  ad- 
venturous time.  In  my  next,  I  will  give  you  an  account 
of  our  expedition  in  full.  It  will  be  a  sort  of  campaign ; 
as  we  go  provided  with  tents  and  every  convenience  for 
campaigning  out  upon  the  island  which  we  intend  to 
visit. 

Your  friend, 

Kate. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  453 


LETTER    LXI. 


My  Dear  Mr. : 

I  HAVE  opened  my  writing-desk  and  taken  a  nice 
new  pen  to  give  a  full  description  of  our  excursion  to  the 
Gulf.  As  Harry  is  in  bed  fast  asleep,  and  "dreaming 
about  the  angels,"  as  Aunt  Winny  says  all  babies  do,  I 
shall  be  able  to  write  you  an  hour  without  interruption. 

It  was  a  busy  time  with  us  all,  for  a  day  or  two  before 
we  were  ready  to  start.  The  gentlemen  had  to  get  their 
fishing  lines,  dip  nets,  guns,  and  rough-weather  coats, 
and  hats  ready,  and  we  ladies  to  fit  ourselves  with  plain 
substantial  dresses,  chip  hats,  stout  shoes,  and  all  things 
needful  for  a  campaign  so  formidable ;  but  the  gentlemen 
were  most  concerned  that  we  should  have  plenty  of  good 
things  to  eat,  of  which  department  I  was  unanimously 
appointed  commissary. 

Early  on  Monday  morning,  two  weeks  ago,  we  were 
roused  at  day-dawn  by  the  pre-concerted  signal — a  gun 
fired  off  by  Scipio  Africanus,  my  husband's  chief  boatman. 
We  were  soon  alert,  and  the  whole  house  was  activity  and 
bustle. 

"Kate,  don't  forget  the  marmalade;  and  are  you  sure 
you  put  up  the  guava  jelly  ?  and  did  Dick  pack  the  basket 
of  wines?" 

These  inquiries  were  made  by  my  lord  and  husband. 


454  THE  SUNNY  south;  or, 

who,  as  you  may  judge,  is  something  of  an  epicure,  in 
his  way. 

"Aunt  Winny — don't  forget  the  baby!"  I  screamed, 
seeing  her  leaving  the  house  without  Harry. 

"Lor,  bless  us.  Missus,  Mass'  Harry  done  gone  down 
to  de  boat  on  de  Doctor  back!" 

"All  well  aboard,"  cried  my  husband  as  he  handed 
me  in  last ;  for  I  had  delayed  to  give  my  orders  to  old 
Chloe,  my  housekeeper  and  factotum,  and  to  tell  her  that 
if  any  of  our  friends  came  while  we  were  absent,  to  en- 
tertain them  with  the  best  the  house  held,  and  try  and 
keep  them  till  we  returned;  and  in  order  that  she  might 
carry  out  this  hospitality,  I  left  her  in  possession  of  all 
my  keys. 

It  was  fairly  sunrise  when  we  were  safely  on  board  the 
yacht  and  away  from  the  shore.  And  a  lovely  morning 
it  was.  The  eastern  sky  looked  like  a  broad  lake  of  gold 
and  green,  stretching  away  into  heaven  and  decked  with 
purple  islets  of  clouds.  Not  a  breath  moved  the  serene 
air  or  disturbed  the  placid  surface  of  the  water,  over 
which  we  glided  to  the  music  of  the  rippling  keel  and 
dripping  oars  of  two  of  our  slaves,  whose  red  Saracenic 
turbans,  blue  shirts,  and  white  full  trowsers,  gave  them, 
with  their  dark  faces,  a  picturesque  appearance.  And 
for  that  matter,  we  were  all  picturesque-looking  enough, 
to  please  the  fancy  of  any  romantic  school-girl.  Our 
barge  itself  was  a  long,  graceful,  xebec-modeled  craft  of 
three  tons  burthen,  a  tall  tapering  mast  of  the  light 
brown  tint  of  amber,  terminating,  twenty  feet  from  the 
deck,  in  a  white  top-mast,  crowned  with  a  gilt  arrow. 
To  a  very  long  pliant  yard  slung  across  it,  was  suspended  I 
a  broad  latteen  sail,   the  shape  of  a  swallow's  wing.  | 


THE    SOUTHERNER    AT    HOME.  455 

Never  was  a  more  bird-like  looking  boat,  and  when  it 
"was  racing  before  a  wave-capping  wind  across  the  lake, 
it  looked  like  a  swift  albatross  winging  his  way  to  his 
covert,  amid  the  dark  shades  of  the  forest  beyond  the 
lake. 

In  the  after  part  of  the  boat  is  a  deck  that  covers  an 
apartment  which  sailors  call  a  cabin,  or  cuddy,  large 
enough  to  hold  six  persons ;  if  they  are  very  fleshy  they 
will  be  somewhat  pinched  for  space,  and  if  very  tall, 
they  will  have  to  stoop  as  they  sit  down.  On  each  side 
are  two  berths,  and  a  table  in  the  centre.  The  whole 
place  is  beautifully  finished  ofi"  with  rosewood  and  gilding, 
rich  blue  drapery  conceals  the  sleeping  places,  and  a 
Turkish  carpet  and  lounges  add  to  its  comfort.  It  is  a 
lady's  boudoir  afloat.  Last,  not  least,  it  contains  a  little 
cupboard,  which  holds  a  complete  dining  set  for  six,  and 
tea  sets  to  match.  The  forward  part  of  the  xebec  has  a 
covered  forecastle  for  the  steersman,  two  oarsmen,  and 
Bteward.  The  length  of  the  whole  vessel  is  thirty-two 
feet.  In  the  space  between  the  forecastle  and  cabin,  are 
seats  cushioned,  where  we  sit  by  day,  as  we  sail  along ; 
and  if  the  sun  is  hot,  an  awning  is  drawn  over  our  heads, 
but  not  so  low  as  to  prevent  us  from  seeing  the  scenery 
on  both  sides  of  the  boat. 

As  for  our  party,  it  consisted  of  my  husband ;  two  fair 
Louisiana  belles,  his  cousins,  of  whom  I  have  before 
spoken,  who  are  on  a  visit  to  us  from  their  father's  sugar 
estate,  near   New  Orleans;    and   young   Dr.  Louis  de 

F ,  who  has  just  returned  from  Europe,  and  lives  on 

the  next  plantation  to  ours,  and  who  is  very  much  in 
love  with  Mathilde,  the  eldest  cousin,  a  splendid  dark- 
eyed  queen  of  a  girl,  who  loves  him  back  again  with  all 


456  THE    SUNNY    SOUTH;    OK, 

Iter  warm  and  generous  heart,  and  what  can  a  lover  ask 

more,   Mr.   ?     I   make   the  fifth  member   of  our 

party,  and  lastly,  and  the  most  important  personage  of 
all,  is  Master  Harry,  my  baby.  Then  there  is  good 
old  Aunt  Winny,  whose  "experience"  I  sent  you,  for  I 
cannot  stir  without  her,  as  she  is  Harry's  ambulance, 
and  there  is  Petit  Pierre,  a  slight,  golden-skinned,  girl- 
ish looking  lad,  who  is  my  page  in  general,  and  also 
waits  on  table,  draws  corks  for  the  gentlemen,  baits  our 
hooks,  and  amuses  Harry;  a  miscellaneous  useful  little 
fellow,  with  a  smile  full  of  sweetness,  and  eyes  superbly 
large  and  expressive,  like  the  eyes  of  a  gazelle.  His 
proper  appellation  is  Pierre,  but  he  is  so  slight  and  under 
sized,  that  every  one  calls  him  "Petit"  also,  to  which 
name  he  usually  answers. 

Now  let  me  sketch  you  our  party,  as  we  move  along  in 
'the  morning  sunshine  across  the  blue  lake,  towards  the 
""narrow,  tree-shadoAved  outlet  of  the  bayou,  into  which 
we  are  soon  to  enter. 

At  the  helm  stands  the  steersman.  Uncle  Ned,  a  tall, 
grave,  pious  black  man,  whose  true  name  is  Sambo. 
His  visage  is  jet  black,  honest  and  sensible  in  its  expres- 
sion, and  withal  humble  and  deferential.  He  would  lay 
doAvn  his  life  for  his  master,  who  I  believe  would  as  readily 
lay  down  his  life  for  him.  When  my  husband  was  a  child. 
Sambo,  then  a  half-broke  plantation  urchin,  carried  him 
in  his  arms,  and  became  his  out-door  nurse.  They  grew 
up  together,  and  when  the  child  became  a  man,  and  the 
boy-nurse  a  servant  in  his  family,  the  attachment,  which 
they  naturally  manifested,  was  beautiful.  At  present 
Uncle  Ned  has  the  responsibility  of  the  whole  party,  and 
his  grave  face  shows  that  he  feels  it.     His  whole  heart 


THE    SOUTUERNEB.    AT    HOME.  457 

ia  upon  his  dutj.  His  head  is  surmounted  by  a  broad- 
brimmed  white  hat,  with  a  streamer  of  black  crape  far 
pendant  behind;  for  Uncle  Ned  has  recently  lost  his  help- 
meet, Dinah,  and  shows  the  depth  of  his  grief  by  the 
length  of  his  mourning  weed;  for  your  true  African  re- 
joices in  a  craped  beaver;  and  I  verily  believe  the  grief 
at  the  loss  of  their  kindred  is  compensated,  in  a  measure, 
by  the  idea  of  "the  black  craped  hat."  Uncle  Ned  has 
gray,  military  cut  whiskers,  and  a  white  cravat  closely 
tied  about  his  neck. 

Genteel  negroes  like  Uncle  Ned  affect  "white  ties." 
He  wore  a  black  coat  and  white  vest,  and  snuff-brown 
linsey-wolsey  trowsers,  and  looked  the  character  he  was 
on  the  plantation  of  a  Sunday,  "a  colored  clergyman." 
Yet  he  was  a  good  coachman,  a  better  boatman,  as  well 
as  a  true  gentleman,  at  heart  and  in  sentiment.  Old 
Ned's  only  dissipation  was  his  pipe.  This  he  never  was 
without,  out  of  doors,  if  "  de  ladies  would  let  him  smoke 
de  pipe  in  dece  presence." 

The  two  girls,  Mathilde  and  Marie,  were  dressed  in. 
closely-fitting  spencers,  which  set  off  their  superb  figures  • 
splendidly,  and  made  the  elder,  who  is  just  nineteen, 
look  like  a  Southern  Di  Vernon ;  and  her  dark  tresses, 
stealing  out  beneath  her  wide  straw  hat,  laughed  in  the 
winds.  Marie  was  a  fair  blonde,  with  an  eye  of  blue, 
like  rich  turquoise  set  in  pearl,  or  to  use  a  soft  and  ten- 
der simile,  "like  a  violet  cupped  in  a  lily."  The  elder 
was  Juno,  the  younger  Euphrosyne.  One  captured 
hearts  by  the  lightning  of  her  glorious  sunrise-looking 
eyes;  the  latter  won  them  with  gentle  influences,  as  the 
moon  attracts  towards  itself  the  beauteous  lake,  that  re- 
^  fleets  its  image.     The  two  lovely  sisters,  in  their  flapping 


458  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

Panama  hats,  and  gray  pic-nic  habits,  and  jaunty,  half- 
gipsy  air,  looked  romantic  enough  for  Mr.  Alexander 
Smith;  who  is  the  moon's  own  bard,  and  who,  had  there 
been  no  moon,  no  poet  had  been. 

The  handsome  Louis,  who  stands  amidships,  pointing 
out  to  Marie  a  flight  of  birds,  is  dressed  like  a  buccaneer, 
and  I  believe  intended  to  be  Mr.  Lafitte  for  the  present 
expedition  only,  inasmuch  as  we  were  bound  to  the  neigh- 
borhood of  this  celebrated  sea-king's  island  of  Bara- 
taria;  nay,  we  expected  to  pay  it  a  visit  in  our  absence. 
Louis  has  a  fine  face,  but  its  beauty  all  comes  from  his 
heart,  which  is  one  of  the  noblest,  and  kindest,  and  man- 
liest that  ever  beat.  His  features  are  not  regularly 
formed,  and  his  forehead  is  too  low,  but  when  one  knows 
him  well,  and  knows  what  a  pure  soul  he  possesses,  what 
superior  intellect,  and  commanding  talent,  one  loves  and 
honors  him  without  any  reservations. 

Then,  there  stands  my  husband!  Of  course  he  is  not 
to  be  paralleled  or  compared.  He  may  be  ugly ;  but  if 
he  is,  I  don't  know  it,  for  my  love  throws  a  golden  veil 
over  every  defect,  and  illumines  every  feature  with  the 
light  of  beauty,  not  beauty  such  as  woman  has,  but  the 
beauty  of  a  man — who  stands  out  commandingly  the 
image  of  his  Maker. 

I  say  that  my  husband,  Mr. ,  may  be  ugly,  but 

tp  me  he  is  perfect.  His  hazel  eyes  beam  on  me  only 
with  love  and  pride,  and  husbandly  tenderness ;  his 
mouth  speaks  to  me  only  the  kindest  and  most  pleasur- 
able things,  his  voice,  when  he  turns  to  address  me, 
changes  its  tone  from  that  he  gives  to  others,  and  falls 
upon  my  ear  like  some  mysterious  music,  that  thrills 
and  moves  the  heart,  the  dear  listener  knows  not  how  or 


THE    SOUTHERNER    AT    HOME.  459 

"vhj.  The  voice  mm/  be  harsh,  the  mouth  unhandsome, 
the  lips  without  regularity,  the  eyes  -without  beauty,  but 
to  me  they  challenge  comparison  with  the  eyes,  lips,  and 
voice  of  Apollo,  or  any  admirable  Crichton  of  them  all. 

There !    my  heart's    confession  is  made,  Mr.  ! 

You  see  I  am  not  ashamed  of  my  good  husband,  and  I 
don't  intend  to  be ;  on  the  contrary,  I  mean  all  my 
readers  shall  think  of  (I  was  going  to  say  love)  him  as 
well  as  I  do.  As  to  loving  him  (I  mean  the  fair  girls 
who  read  this),  I  would  simply  hint  that  I  have  a  mono- 
poly in  him,  and  don't  intend  any  body  shall  love  him, 
or  look  at  him  even  sidewise,  but  me.  Even  the  superb 
Mathilde,  cousin  as  she  is,  sometimes  makes  me  feel  like 
pulling  her  ears,  when  I  have  seen  her  look  as  if  she 
loved  him  more  than  a  cousin  ought  to  love  a  cousin ! 
Harry  I  will  not  describe — he  couldn't  be  described ! 
Imagine  a  perfect  Cupid,  (I  mean,  of  course,  sir,  with  a 
pretty  plaid  frock  on,  tiny  gaiter  boots  on  his  charming 
feet,  a  Scotch  cap  and  feather  set  aside  on  his  curly 
head,  black  eyes  full  of  fun,  rosy  cheeks,  chubby  arms, 
chubby  hands,  chubby  bare  legs,  and  lips  like  the  rosy 
lining  of  twin  sea-shells,)  and  you  have  "  Mass'  Harry," 
and  with  him  the  whole  "  ship's  company." 

We  moved  delightfully  along  the  shores  of  the  tree- 
fringed  lake  for  a  half  mile,  when  visible  right  ahead, 
was  the  opening  of  the  bayou,  for  which  we  were  steer- 
ing. We  soon  entered,  all  at  once,  losing  sight  of  the 
sun-bright  lake  of  my  villa-home.  The  bayou  was  about 
as  wide  as  Chestnut  street,  with  just  room  for  meeting 
boats  to  pass.  For  the  first  mile  we  moved  on  beneath 
mammoth  trunks  of  old  live-oak  trees,  that  threw  their 
gnarled  arms  far  across  from  side  to  side.     Wild  vines, 


460  THE  suN>iY  south;  or, 

gay  with  strange  and  beautiful  flowers,  grew  close  to  the 
water,  and  winding  their  serpent-like  folds  about  the 
trees,  climbed  up  and  along  the  branches,  and  formed  a 
thousand  festoons  from  bank  to  bank,  beneath  which  we 
glided,  and  using  them  to  propel  us  onward,  instead  of 
the  oars,  we  darted  swiftly  beneath,  leaving  far  astern  a 
wake  of  gurgling  waves,  agitated  by  our  keel.  A  deer, 
startled  by  our  shouts  of  laughter,  (for  people  in  the 
woods  somehow  are  always  more  noisy  than  when  at 
home,)  plunged  into  the  stream,  and  after  a  dozen  of 
vigorous  strokes  with  his  hoofs,  dashing  the  water  high 
above  his  antlers  as  he  swam,  landed  on  the  wild-wood 
side  of  the  bayou.  Louis  raised  his  rifle  with  a  true 
hunter's  instinct.  Mathilde,  with  a  "No,  Louis,  don't! 
Let  the  poor  fellow  live  and  enjoy  the  freedom  of  his 
forest  home,  gently  laid  her  hand  upon  the  gun  and  dis- 
armed him. 

"It  is  your  deer,  Mademoiselle  Mathilde,"  he  said, 
gallantly,"  "and  when  I  return  I  will  ensnare  him  and 
present  him  to  you  alive." 

At  this  moment,  we  emerged  from  the  entangled  forest, 
and  on  each  side  extended  the  level  sugar  fields  a  mile 
broad,  waving  like  the  "green  and  laughing  corn,"  or 
rather  looking  like  an  undulating  emeraldine  sea.  In 
the  distance  ahead,  rose  the  lofty  towers  of  the  sugar- 
house,  or  '^  sucrdrie,"  and  amid  a  grove  of  tropical  shade 
trees,  half  a  mile  to  the  right,  were  visible  the  roof  and 
cupola  of  the  mansion,  where  we  were  to  receive  an  ac- 
cession of  two  more  boats  to  our  party. 

In  an  hour  after  leaving  the  lake,  we  reached  this 
luxurious  abode  of  refinement  and  wealth,  were  welcomed 
by  a  happy  group  upon  the  green  bank,  and  escorted 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  461 

with  great  triumph  and  rejoicing  to  the  house  where 
breakfast  was  waiting  for  us ;  for  it  was  in  carte  of  the 
day  that  we  were  to  dejeuner  here.  By  nine  o'clock  we 
were  once  more  on  board,  and  with  the  addition  of  two 
more  ladies  and  three  gentlemen,  we  voyaged  a-down  the 
bayou,  a  merry  fleet,  steering  the  whole  forenoon  amid 
sugar  fields  that  kissed  the  wave,  or  past  villas  where  we 
were  cheered  by  groups  of  friends,  who  followed  us  as 
far  as  they  could  be  heard,  with  "  Bon  voyage,  bon  voy- 
age, au  revoir!"  while  little  Harry,  hold  high  in  air,  by 
proud  Aunt  Winny,  would  prettily  smack  his  fat  hands 
and  toss  an  imaginary  kiss,  (an  accomplishment  which 
his  father  had  taught  the  little  rogue,)  back  to  the  joy- 
ous throng.  The  remainder  of  my  narrative,  I  will  de- 
fer, Mr. ,  for  another  letter.     Until  then,  adieu. 

Yours  respectfully, 

Kate. 


462  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 


LETTER    LXII. 

My  Dear  Mr. : 

You  know  when  one  sits  down,  pen  in  hand,  and  with 
kindly  feelings,  to  write  about  what  one  has  seen,  and 
wishes  one's  readers  to  see  with  the  same  eyes,  that  the 
subject  grows,  enlarges,  expands  under  the  ready  pen, 
until  what  was  meant  for  a  letter  only,  becomes  a  book. 
So,  under  my  pen,  enlarges  my  narrative  of  our  excur- 
sion, which  I  expected  to  stitch  up  for  you  with  one  nee- 
dle full  of  thread,  but  which  I  see  will  take  two,  and 
perhaps  three  of  them.  A  lady  with  a  talkative  pen  is 
quite  as  much  a  horror,  I  confess,  as  one  with  a  talkative 
tongue. 

My  last  Needle  left  our  little  fleet  of  pleasure-barges 
■winding  our  pleasant  way  down  the  bayou  Terre  Bonne, 
southwardly,  towards  the  pretty  village  of  Thibodeaux, 
which  please  turn  to  your  map  and  find  in  the  bosom  of 
the  delightful  sugar  region  of  Louisiana.  It  was  a  bright 
autumnal  day,  and  we  all  gave  full  rein  to  our  wild 
spirits,  awaking  the  echoes  of  the  groves,  past  which  we 
sailed,  and  causing  the  groups  of  slaves  in  the  fields  to 
pause,  leaning  on  their  long-handled  hoes,  and  gaze  upon 
us  with  shining  eyes  and  glittering  teeth ;  while  Uncle 
Ned  at  the  helm  drew  himself  up  in  the  presence  of  these 
"colored  folk,"  with  all  the  dignity  which  his  responsi- 
bility as  helmsman  of  our  yacht  entitled  him  to  assume 


THE   SOUTHERNER    AT    HOME.  46S 

before  barbarian  "  field  niggers,"  as  the  aristocratic 
house-servant  terms  the  cultivators  of  the  soil. 

At  noon,  we  reached  the  estate  of  a  friend ;  "where  we 
landed  and  dined  beneath  the  trees  on  the  bank  ;  the 
hospitable  family,  seeing  we  would  not  go  in,  added  all 
sorts  of  luxuries,  which  half-a-dozen  slaves  brought  out 
to  us  upon  waiters.  It  was  sunset  when  we  reached  the 
outlet  of  the  bayou  at  the  village  of  Thibodeaux ;  but  as 
the  moon  rose  full  and  glorious  before  darkness  could 
begin  to  draw  its  starry  veil  over  the  sky,  we  resolved 
to  continue  on  our  way  and  bivouac  for  the  night  at  the 

plantation  of  M.  M ,  a  relative  of  ray  husband's,  who 

had  been  notified  of  our  coming  down  upon  him  "in 
force."  So  we  left  the  narrow  bayou,  passing  beneath 
the  old  French  bridge  that  crossed  it  at  its  mouth,  near 
the  end  of  the  village  street,  and  pulled  out  into  the 
broader  and  deeper  current  of  the  Bayou  Lafourche,  on 
which  the  village  stands.  There  was  a  soft  haze  settled 
over  the  town,  above  which  the  spires  caught  the  moon- 
beams like  minarets  of  silver. 

When  our  whole  fleet  had  got  out  into  the  broader 
waters  of  Lafourche,  there  was  a  council  of  war  held  by 
the  gentlemen  of  the  several  boats,  and  it  resulted  in  my 
husband  being  chosen  Admiral  of  the  Fleet ;  and  our 
boat  was  therefore  made  the  flag-ship,  out  of  compliment 
to  me,  a  grace  at  their  hands,  which  I  here  publicly  ac- 
knowledge. We,  therefore  took  the  lead,  and  the  other 
four  boats  followed  joyously  astern  ;  for  besides  the  two 
yachts  which  joined  us  en  voyage,  we  had  two  "  trans- 
ports," boats  containing  our  tents,  nets,  fishing-poles, 
guns,  provisions,  and  dogs,  and  every  possible  extra, 
that  a  campaign  of  ten  days  might  require. 


464  THE    SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

As  tlic  town,  with  its  sparkling  winclow-liglits,  and 
with  here  and  there  the  distant  music  of  a  skillfully 
thrummed  guitar,  receded,  we  drew  near  the  Cathedral 
church,  ahout  half-a-mile  below  the  village.  Its  bell  was 
heavily  tolling  across  the  water,  and  we  saw  a  procession 
coming  forth  with  torchlights  ;  and  winding  its  way  be- 
neath the  trees  towards  the  cemetery.  The  solemn 
chanting  of  the  service  of  the  dead  reached  our  ears  when 
we  had  gone  far  down  the  bayou,  and,  what  with  the 
hour  and  associations,  it  all  deeply  impressed  us.  We 
learned,  on  our  return,  that  it  was  the  funeral  of  a  young 
nun  who  had  died  the  week  previous,  at  the  Convent  du 
Sacr^  Coeur,  and  her  body  having  arrived  late  at  her 
former  home,  had  been  the  same  night  conveyed  beneath 
the  pure  moonbeams  to  its  last  resting  place  by  the 
church  in  which  she  had,  as  an  infant,  received  holy  bap- 
tism. 

There  is  something,  to  my  imagination,  extremely  at- 
tractive in  the  aesthetics  of  the  Roman  Catholic  religion ; 
but  not  to  my  reason  nor  to  my  heart.  I  could  never 
bend  my  knee  to  the  "Virgin  Mother,"  nor  use  words 
of  prayer  to  the  "  holy  saints"  asking  their  intercession, 
while  there  stands  in  my  Protestant  Bible  these  words  : 
"  There  is  one  intercessor  between  God  and  man — the 
man  Christ  Jesus."  Theirs  is  a  romantic,  imaginative, 
and  touchingly  superstitious  faith,  and  is  only  received 
fully  by  an  imaginative  people. 

Americans  can  never  be  Romanized.  They  are  too 
practical — too  wmmaginative,  too  little  disposed  to  de- 
votion at  all,  to  commit  themselves  voluntarily  to  a  faith 
that  is  ever  genuflecting,  ever  going  through  the  ex- 
ternals of  worship.     A  people  who  find  it  hard  to  ac- 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT    HOME.  465 

knowledge  and  pray  to  one  God  will  hardly  pray  to  a 
thousand. 

So  the  Pope  and  his  council  have  decreed  that  the 
mother  of  Jesus  was  a  Divine  Person,  and  therefore  deny 
that  she  is  a  woman !  What  a  monstrous  doctrine !  and 
it  is  decreed,  too,  by  the  papal  "bull,"  that  it  is  heresy 
to  deny  it.  Do  you  not  remember  a  verse  in  the  First 
Epistle  of  John,  chapter  fourth,  second  and  third  verses ; 
rtlso  the  Second  Epistle  of  John,  seventh  verse,  which 
says,  "For  many  deceivers  are  entered  into  the  world, 
who  confess  not  that  Jesus  Christ  is  come  in  the  jiesh. 
This  is  a  deceiver  and  Antichrist?"  Now,  if  Jesus' 
mother  was  a  divine  and  sinless  being,  she  was  not  a 
"woman."  But  the  prophecy  was  that  Christ  should  be 
the  seed  of  the  woman — born  of  a  woman.  If  Mary  was 
not  a  woman,  (but  a  sort  of  divine  goddess  as  the  Papal 
decree  makes  her,)  then  Jesus  was  not  born  of  woman ; 
and  hence  he  is  not  the  Christ;  as  he  was  not  that  '■'■man 
Christ  Jesus"  foretold;  for  he  could  only  be  man  by 
being  born  of  a  woman.  The  establishing,  therefore,  the 
divinity  of  Mary,  destroys  the  manhood  of  Jesus,  and 
ignores  his  having  "come  in  the  flesh."  But  this  is  a 
question  for  theologians,  yet  it  is  one  that  every  Chris- 
tian may  freely  discuss. 

Our  voyage  down  the  bayou  under  the  splendor  of  the 
gorgeous  southern  moon  was  delightful.  Every  half 
mile  we  glided  past  a  villa  either  on  one  hand  or 
the  other.  At  one  place  we  were  serenaded,  in  passing, 
by  a  party  in  a  garden,  who  sang  superbly  and  with  fine 
effect : — 

"  The  bonny  boat  with  yielding  sway 
Rockg  lightly  on  the  tide,"  &c. 
30 


466  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

The  gentlemen  and  ladies  of  our  party  responded  by 
singing  in  full  cliorus  the  Canadian  boat  song : — 

"  Row,  brothers,  row,  the  stream  runs  fast, 
The  rapids  are  near,  the  daylight's  past." 

About  nine  o'clock  we  came  in  sight  of  the  plantation 

of  M.  M ,  my  husband's  relative.     We   saw  lights 

moving  upon  the  landing-place,  for  we  had  signalled  our 
near  approach  by  a  gun  fired  by  Louis  de  F . 

Here  we  were  welcomed  with  great  enthusiasm,  and 
when  Monsieur  M.  saw  our  large  force  and  formidable 
armament  (for  we  had  not  less  than  seventeen  guns  of 
all  sorts  and  sizes),  he  playfully  made  grave  objections  to 
our  landing,  asseverating  that  we  had,  no  doubt,  come 
to  invade  and,  peradventure,  conquer  his  domain ;  but 
being  assured  that  we  were  bound  only  against  piscato- 
rial foes,  he  suffered  us  to  debark,  at  the  same  time  hint- 
ing that  we  were  evidently  on  a  secret  Cuban  expedition ; 
and  your  admiral  (my  husband)  will  be  emperor,  and 
"your  fair  lady  Kate,"  he  added,  as  he  assisted  me  to 
the  pier,  "will  be  empress.  I  much  fear  I  shall  be 
called  to  account  by  my  governor  for  aiding  and  abetting 
a  foreign  invasion  if  I  harbor  you  to-night." 

We  passed  the  night  at  this  princely  home  of  one  of 
the  best  hearted  southern  gentlemen  it  was  ever  my  lot 
to  meet ;  and  resisting  his  pressing  appeals  to  us  to  re- 
main another  day  and  night,  we  took  our  departure, 
taking  Monsieur  M.  with  us;  "for,"  he  said,  "if  he 
could  not  detain  such  good  company,  the  good  company 
should  retain  him." 

We  arrived,  at  nine  o'clock  at  the  estate  of  a  New 
Orleans   gentleman,  who  was  a  non-resident.     In   his 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  467 

beautiful  garden,  which  the  waters  of  La  Fourche  have, 
we  spread  our  morning  meal,  and  never  a  pic-nic  gather- 
ing had  so  mirthful  a  repast.  After  breakfast  we  re- 
embarked,  and,  under  the  cheering  command  to  the 
rowers,  "  Give  way  heartily,  boys !"  we  moved  rapidly 
down  the  bayou,  the  wide  savannahs  of  the  level  sugar 
fields  stretching  away  on  either  hand  to  the  horizon ;  the 
uniformity  of  the  immense  surface  of  waving  cane,  re- 
lieved here  and  there  by  clumps,  or  by  single  live  oaks, 
by  groves  concealing  residences,  and  by  the  tall  "  Be- 
gasse  chimneys,"  of  the  sugar  houses,,  which  made  these 
huge  brick  buildings  look  like  convents. 

About  eleven  o'clock  a  pleasant  wind  arose.  I  could 
see  its  effects,  as  I  stood  upon  the  deck  of  the  yacht,  a 
mile  before  we  felt  it,  in  the  sea-like  motion  which  it 
communicated  to  the  tall  tops  of  the  sugar  cane,  which 
heaved  and  swelled  beneath  its  invisible  power  like  a 
green,  billowy  sea. 

To  a  northern  eye,  the  best  idea  of  a  field  of  sugar- 
cane here,  will  be  conveyed  by  imagining  a  perfectly 
level  country,  leagues  in  extent,  without  a  fence,  covered 
with  corn,  just  as  it  is  ready  "to  tassel,"  and  if  he 
imagines  through  this  vast  domain  of  level  savan- 
nah a  river,  half  the  breadth  of  the  Schuylkill,  flowing 
almost  level  with  the  land,  with  here  and  there  a  group 
of  trees  dispersed  over  the  green  extent,  and  every  mile 
or  two  a  villa  and  a  tall,  tower-like  chimney  and  sugar- 
house  rising  near  it,  a  good  idea  of  the  country,  through 
which  the  "La  Fourche"  winds  will  be  obtained. 

When  the  breeze  came  to  us  we  hoisted  sail,  and  our 
black  oarsmen  rested.  Under  the  wing-like  canvas  our 
little  fleet  flew  cheerily  onward ;  and  as  we  drew  nearer 


468  .^?THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

the  Gulf  the  country  became  less  picturesjq^ue,  the  sugar 
fields  less  numerous,  and  the  abodes  of  planters  farther 
and  farther  apart.  At  length  we  came,  about  two  in  the 
afternoon,  to  the  last  tree  that  stands  on  the  coast  be- 
tween it  and  the  Gulf,  twelve  miles  distant.  This  tree 
was  a  venerable  live  oak,  and  seemed  to  have  stood  there,  | 
the  monarch  of  the  savannah,  for  centuries.  Its  huge 
arms  were  broad  enough  to  shelter  five  hundred  men. 
Its  situation  was  "  sublimely  lonely  and  solitarily  grand," 
as  one  of  the  young  gentlemen  of  our  party,  who  writes 
poetry,  said. 

As  we  came  near  the  oak,  we  startled  two  deer  from 
beneath  it,  which,  after  surveying  us  for  an  instant,  took 
to  flight,  and  were  lost  to  the  eye  in  a  moment  in  the 
high  gulf  grass  that  grew  close  up  to  the  tree,  which 
stood  on  a  little  island  of  its  own,  for  around  it  was  the 
saline  marsh  that  now  took  the  place  of  the  cultivated 
sugar  fields,  which  we  had  left  behind. 

It  was  decided  by  the  "Admiral"  that  we  should  moor 
our  fleet  beneath  the  tree  and  here  dine. 

You  should  have  seen  the  bustle  of  preparation,  Mr. 

.     Our  party  consisted,  all  together,  of  descendants 

of  Japhet,  fourteen,  and  of  descendants  of  Ham,  nine,  in 
all  twenty-three  persons ;  for  to  such  a  size  had  we  in- 
creased by  volunteers  from  the  estates  we  took  in  our 
way.  We  were  all  friends,  and  knew  one  another  well, 
so  that,  I  verily  believe,  everybody  called  everybody 
(married  or  not)  by  their  first  name.  Dignified  married 
lady  as  I  am,  they  every  soul  called  me  "Kate,"  as  if  I 
had  been  everybody's  sister,  or  at  least  "cousin." 

While  we  were  dining  at  tables  beneath  the  tree,  with 
servants  in  waiting,  and  every  thing  as  nice  and  recherche 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  469 

as  if  "vve  were  in  a  dining-room,  Petit  Pierre,  who  was 
drawing  a  cork  from  a  bottle  of  Chateau  Margaux,  sud- 
denly uttered  a  formidable  screech,  dropped  the  bottle, 
and  fled  yelling  for  the  tree !  We  ladies,  of  course,  were 
all  alarmed,  and  the  brave  gentlemen  sprung  to  their 
feet ;  when  Uncle  Ned,  from  the  boat,  called  out, 

"Big  alligator,  master!" 

True  enough,  not  fifty  feet  distant,  a  monstrous  alli- 
gator was  seen  swimming  across  the  bayou,  just  above 
us,  to  our  side  of  it.  Guns  were  in  requisition !  Dogs 
were  alert — and  for  a  minute  or  more  all  was  intense 
excitement.  Bang,  bang,  crack,  bung,  ping!  went  off 
all  sorts  of  fire-arms  ;  but  the  king  of  the  marshes  did  not 
wait  to  contend  matters,  for  he  no  sooner  discovered  into 
what  a  snare  he  had  inadvertently  put  his  royalty,  than 
he  made  a  queer  noise  like  an  elephant  when  teased, 
and  dived  down  out  of  sight.  Close  watch,  with  guns  at 
aim,  was  kept  for  his  reappearance,  but  we  saw  him  no 
more.  Petit  returned  from  the  tree  to  terra  firma  and 
finished  drawing  the  cork,  and  we  resumed  our  meal, 
which  was  interpolated  by  alligator  stories,  told  by  the 
gentlemen. 

After  we  had  well  dined,  about  four  o'clock,  we  re-em- 
barked. The  wind  was  fair  and  free,  and  our  five  boats,  all 
under  snowy  canvas,  went  careering  onward  towards  the 
Gulf. 

In  about  half-an-hour  one  of  the  young  gentlemen  in 
another  yacht,  who  had  climbed  the  mast,  called  out, 

"Gulf,  ho!" 

At  this  sound  we  were  all  upon  our  feet,  for  some  of  us 
had  been  taking  siestas  in  our  berths ;  but  on  going  out 
all  I  could  see  was  the  tall  sea-grass  spreading  for  miles 


470  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

around  as ;  and  even  the  old  oak  being  no  longer  visible ; 
nothing  but  an  ocean  of  brownish  green  grass  eight 
feet  high,  that  tossed  in  the  wind  like  a  wave-moving 
sea.  But  in  a  little  while  a  bend  in  the  bayou  opened 
the  Gulf  full  before  us,  and  with  clapping  hands  and  ex- 
clamations of  delight  at  its  broad  blue  expanse  and  green 
islands,  we  hailed  the  welcome  sight. 

But  another  letter  must  take  up  my  narrative.     Till 
then,  farewell. 

Truly  your  friend, 

Kate. 


THB   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  471 


LETTER   LXIII. 


My  Dear  Mr. : 

The  kind  compliments  which  the  newspapers  and  some 
of  your  correspondents  have  paid  my  poor  "  Needles," 
not  only  encourage  me  and  inspire  me  to  try  and  deserve 
their  commendations,  but  make  me  grateful.  Nothing 
makes  me  so  happy  as  to  make  happiness  for  others ;  and 
if  the  perusal  of  one  of  my  letters  has  beguiled  a  half 
hour  of  any  one,  I  am  well  repaid.  The  greatest  reward 
of  a  writer  is  the  happiness  to  which  his  pen  has  con- 
tributed. 

To  be  sure,  he  must  be  paid  in  money  to  buy  ink,  and 
pens,  and  paper,  but  those  are  to  enable  him  to  write; 
and  money,  also,  is  a  very  nice  thing  when  one  wants  a 
new  pair  of  shoes,  or  a  shawl  in  cold  weather,  or  bread 
and  butter,  and  tea.  True,  authors  are  not  so  much 
paid  for  what  they  write,  as  that  they  receive  means  to 
enable  them  to  write !  The  writing  is  given,  but  the 
bodily  strength,  the  ink  and  paper,  the  table  to  write  on, 
the  floor  on  which  the  table  stands,  the  roof  over  head, 
the  window  or  lamp  for  light,  the  fire  to  keep  him  warm, 
his  breakfasts,  dinners,  suppers, — the  editor  and  pub- 
lisher gives  him  money  only  to  pay  for  these ;  supplies 
the  fuel  "  to  keep  up  the  steam,"  to  use  a  plain  American 
phrase. 

But  I  will  not  stray  away  from  the  proper  subjoct  of 


472  THE    SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

this  letter,  which  is  a  continuation  of  the  journal  of  our 
romantic  expedition  to  the  Gulf  and  its  green  islands. 

Mj  last  closed  just  as  our  fleet  of  pleasure  yachts 
came  in  sight  of  the  broad  horizon  of  the  Mexican  Gulf, 
on  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day  after  leaving  Lake 
Illiwalla  in  the  interior,  our  course  by  the  bayous  having 
been  nearly  one  hundred  miles  altogether. 

The  sight  of  the  gulf  was  hailed  by  us  with  shouts. 
We  had  to  go  yet  six  miles  before  debouching  into  it 
from  the  bayou,  which  glided  like  a  tortuously  moving 
and  shining  serpent  between  the  borders  of  tall  reddish 
grass.  This  grass  was  the  size  of  a  quill  and  seven  feet 
tall,  and  grew  not  of  visible  soil,  but  out  of  mud  under 
the  water. 

As  far  as  the  eye  could  extend  there  was  one  vast 
plain  of  grass,  level  as  the  sea;  but  there  was  not  any- 
where visible  a  foot  of  land,  not  a  place  where  Noah's 
dove  could  rest  its  poor  little  weary  feet. 

The  sable  oarsmen  now  pulled  cheerily  to  their  oars, 
as  we  intended  to  gain  an  island  a  league  off  the  coast, 
which  was  visible  like  a  pale  green  streak  of  cloud, 
asleep  on  the  horizon.  Near  this  island,  as  we  ap- 
proached the  mouth  of  the  bayou,  we  discovered  at 
anchor  a  small  sloop,  which  the  gentlemen  said  was 
waiting  for  a  wind  to  run  up  the  bayou  we  were  in,  to 
load  with  sugar  from  the  plantations,  and  take  it  down 
and  round  to  New  Orleans,  for  many  of  the  planters 
send  their  staple  to  market  in  this  way  rather  than  up 
the  bayou,  past  Thibodeaux,  and  so  across  into  the  Mis- 
sissippi and  to  New  Orleans.  This  present  mode  had 
the  advantage  both  of  economy  and  security. 

When  within  a  mile  of  the  mouth,  a  breeze  caught  our 


THE   SOUTHERNER  AT   HOME.  473 

little  flags,  and  we  hoisted  sail  and  gave  our  rowers  rest, 
though  they  showed  no  fatigue.  ^Indeed,  the  endurance 
of  the  African  slaves  is  marvelous.  They  will  row  hour 
after  hour,  and  at  the  last  are  as  brisk  and  lively,  and 
sing  their  songs  as  cheerily  as  in  the  outset.  There 
seems  no  tire  to  a  negro ;  no  end  to  his  good  humor 
when  he  is  on  a  party  of  this  kind,  for  they  enjoy  it 
quite  as  much  as  "  massa  and  missus."  Such  delightful, 
willing,  apprehending,  anticipating-your-want  servants, 
never  were  as  this  race  of  bondsmen.  They  seem  in 
servitude  to  be  where  they  wish  to  be,  for  they  are  by 
nature  dependent,  and  they  love  to  look  up  to  some  one 
who  "takes  the  responsibility;"  and  for  this  responsi- 
bility they  are  ready  to  give  in  return  their  labor  and 
life-service.  Certainly /ree  negroes  are  the  worst  possi- 
ble servants,  and  for  want  of  healthy  authority,  and  some 
stronger  head  to  think  and  do  for  them,  they  become 
very  degraded.  I  have  just  seen  a  book  called  "  A 
South  side  View  of  slavery,"  by  Rev.  Dr.  Adams,  of 
Boston,  which  every  man  and  woman  north  ought  to 
read.  It  is  the  only  reply  that  has  been  made  to  "  Uncle 
Tom's  Cabin,"  lately  published  without  intending  to  be 
a  reply  to  it.  If  our  northern  friends  would  read  this 
book,  they  would  leave  slavery  to  the  south  and  to  the 
Providence  of  God  for  the  final  adjustment,  of  all  vexed 
questions  it  has  given  rise  to.  The  south  feels  the  re- 
sponsibility as  profoundly  as  the  north.  The  Christians, 
and  wise,  and  thinking  men  in  the  south  have  this  sub- 
ject at  heart,  and  will  be  the  instruments  (not  the  north- 
ern abolitionists)  chosen  of  God  for  the  amelioration  and 
final  emancipation  of  the  race,  if  God  ordain  that  they 
shall  ever  be  free.     But  every  step  made  by  the  north  to 


474  THE    SUNNY    SOUTH;    OR, 

coerce,  is  naturally  met  by  southerners  (who  are  quite  as 
humane  as  gentlemen,  and  gentle  as  ladies,  as  the  north- 
erners,) with  barriers  and  defences,  and  more  formidable 
entrenchments  thrown  up  about  their  institutions.    These, 

Mr. ,  are  the  views  of  a  northern  woman,  who  has 

dwelt  long  enough  in  the  south  to  see  things  as  they  are. 
Abide  God's  time  !  Wait  for  the  Moses  of  the  Lord  God 
of  Hosts  !  x\ll  the  efforts  of  supposable  philanthropists 
in  Egypt  could  not  have  hastened  one  day  sooner  the 
deliverance  from  bondage  of  Israel ;  nay,  the  first  move- 
ment towards  it  of  Moses  himself,  only  caused  Pharaoh 
to  heap  additional  burdens  upon  them.  Such  has  been 
the  result  of  the  mere  human  movement  of  the  northern 
fanatics ;  they  have  taken  away  the  straw  from  the  la- 
borers, and  made  firmer  their  bonds.  In  God's  time  His 
Moses  will  be  found  borne  upon  the  waters  of  time,  and 
God,  and  not  man,  if  the  slave  is  to  be  free,  will  lead 
Africa,   as  once  he   did  Israel,  out  of  the  House  of 


Bondages 


How  shall  I  describe  the  beautiful  spectacle  our  little 
fleet  presented,  with  sails  all  a-spread,  as  we  darted  like 
a  flock  of  gulls  out  from  the  bouche  of  the  narrow  bayou 
into  the  open  expanse  of  the  gulf!  The  sun  was  about 
half  an  hour  high,  and  covering  the  waves  with  gold  and 
orange,  while  the  heavens  in  the  west,  where  he  was  go- 
ing down,  were  gorgeous  with  green,  purple,  and  crimson, 
beyond  painter's  pencil  or  poet's  pen.  No  wonder  the 
Indian,  in  his  fresh  imagination,  believed  the  western 
heavens  to  be  the  gate  to  his  celestial  hunting  grounds ! 
A  little  child  once  gazing  on  such  a  sky  of  glory,  said 
to  me : — 

"Aunt  Kate,  heaven  is  so  full  of  light  and  pretty 


THE   SOUTHERNER    AT   HOME.  475 

colors,  that  when  God  opens  its  gate  at  sun  down  to  let 
the  sun  go  in,  they  burst  out,  don't  they?" 

Is  not  that  pretty,  Mr. ?     Children's  sayings  are 

so  fresh  and  original,  often  so  wonderful,  that  if  parents 
would  preserve  all  their  speeches  in  writing,  a  lovely  book 
could  be  made  up  of  them,  of  the  greatest  interest. 
What  mammas  will  recollect  and  send  to  you  for  a  corner 
of  your  paper,  all  the  pretty  thoughts  out-spoken  by 
their  little  ones  ?  A  little  girl  of  five  years,  whose  at- 
tending ears  had  heard  talking  at  home  about  High  and 
Low  Church,  was  taken  to  a  church  where  the  pulpit 
was  unusually  lofty.  While  they  were  singing  she 
whispered  to  her  ma,  "  That  minister,  ma,  must  be  very 
high  church,  as  high  as  the  Communion  of  Saints!" 

But  while  I  am  chattering  about  little  people,  our 
yacht  begins  to 

"rock  lightly  on  the  tide," 

and  curvets  and  rears  like  a  cantering  pony  to  the  un- 
dulating waves,  which  ever  and  forever  roll  and  unroll 
themselves  in  the  deep  sea.  The  motion  is,  however,  by 
no  means  unpleasant;  but  we  have  to  look  after  move- 
ables, and  whoever  tries  to  walk,  goes  toddling  about  not 
half  so  gracefully  as  my  little  Harry,  whose  natural  gait 
being  a  roll,  is  quite  at  home  as  he  moves  about  the 
cabin,  his  roll,  meeting  the  yacht's  roll,  counteracts  it, 
and  he  goes  about  straight  as  an  Indian.  The  weather 
is  always  delightful  at  this  season,  and  never  was  a 
lovelier  evening  than  that,  amid  the  roseate  and  golden 
beauties  of  which  we  sailed  across  the  channel  to  the 
island,  which  lay  like  a  huge  emerald  upon  a  sea  of  silver 
rosSe,  to  gallicise  a  word. 


476  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

When  about  a  mile  from  the  island,  and  just  as  the 
sun  descended  into  the  deep,  all  the  gentlemen  together 
fired  off  a  feu  de  joie.  At  this  loud  fusilade,  ten  thousand 
ducks  that  were  reposing  upon  the  surface  of  the  water 
near  the  island,  rose  like  a  black  cloud  into  the  sky,  and 
flew  round  and  round  in  a  wild  vortex,  about  a  hundred 
feet  in  the  air;  while  herons,  pelicans,  and  gulls,  that 
were  in  the  covert  of  the  island-shore,  startled  from  their 
propriety,  scattered  in  all  ways  and  in  the  utmost  alarm. 
With  the  spy-glass,  an  alligator,  a  rare  visitor  in  salt 
water,  was  seen  to  plunge  into  the  water ;  and  last,  yet 
not  least,  the  sloop  which  was  moored  about  a  mile  from 
us,  close  under  the  island,  hurriedly  slipped  her  cable, 
hoisted  her  mainsail  and  jib,  and  fairly  ran  away  from 
us,  no  doubt  believing  our  merry  and  peaceful  pic-nic 
party,  a  piratical  expedition ;  or  at  least  of  such  "  ques- 
tionable shape,"  as  not  to  be  waited  for!  Thereupon 
the  bearded  ones  of  our  company  set  up  a  wild  and  loud 
huzza,  and  cheered  the  flying  sloop  with  the  greatest 
good  humor  imaginable. 

"Doubtless,"  said  my  quiet  husband,  "that  skipper, 
when  he  reaches  New  Orleans,  will  report  having  seen 
and  been  flred  into,  and  hotly  pursued  by  a  flotilla  of 
seven  armed  boats,  full  of  men,  off  the  mouth  of  Bayou 
La  Fourche !  and  that  he  and  his  crew  only  escaped,  by 
slipping  his  cable  and  putting  to  sea."  The  result 
showed  that  my  husband  was  in  the  right. 

The  wind  left  our  canvass  as  we  drew  near  the  island, 
which  the  Spaniards  call  "Isla  de  Boca,"  but  the  old 
Frenchmen,  "Isle  des  Oiseaux,"  or  Isle  of  Birds.  It  is 
about  a  league  in  length  and  half  a  mile  wide,  with 
clumps  of  live  oaks  sprinkled  over  its  surface,  which  is 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  477 

dry  and  elevated,  but  without  any  variation  of  its 
perfect  level.  The  rowers  pulled  into  a  little  cove, 
where  we  moored  our  fleet ;  and  by  the  light  of  the  rising 
moon  the  gentlemen  landed  in  the  small  boats,  and 
began  to  look  out  a  place  for  the  servants  to  set  up  the 
tent. 

On  board  the  admiral's  vessel — that  is  in  my  ship — 
the  ladies  all  assembled  to  take  tea  by  invitation  while 
the  gentlemen  superintended  and  assisted  in  landing  the 
paraphernalia.  We  had  a  pleasant  time  and  a  laugh- 
ringing  one,  at  our  supper,  which  was  gracefully  handed 
round  by  Petit.  In  less  than  an  hour  the  great  tent  or 
"markee"  was  erected,  and  lifted  its  white  pyramidal 
walls  in  the  soft  moonlight  like  a  palace  of  pearl.  In 
the  centre  was  suspended  a  swinging  lamp,  that  brightly 
lighted  the  interior.  Camp-stools,  a  table,  lounges,  and 
all  the  furniture  necessary  to  make  it  a  handsome  draw- 
ing-room, were  placed  within.  There  were  five  other 
tents  smaller  than  this,  two  of  which  were  exclusively 
for  the  ladies'  abodes ;  though  one  or  two  of  them,  from 
fear  of  horrid  alligators,  imaginary  lions,  tigers,  wolves, 
and  bears,  to  say  nothing  of  dreadful  elephants,  de- 
termined to  keep  their  quarters  in  the  cabins  of  the 
yachts. 

Hammocks  and  iron-framed  bedsteads  were  provided 
for  those  who  chose  to  sleep  in  the  tents.  The  spot 
where  our  little  snow-white  city  was  thus  magically  built 
was  very  picturesque.  A  crescent  shaped  cove  of  spark- 
ling sand  was  in  front,  where  the  yachts  lay  moored, 
bows  outward,  in  a  half-circle,  like  a  fleet  protecting  a 
harbor;  overhead  spread  the  interlaced  branches  of  three 
great  oaks,  and  near  was  a  well  of  pure  water,  which  the 


478  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

buccaneers  who  had  once  resorted  to  this  island,  had  dug ; 
for  this  island  is  not  far  from  Barrataria  Bay  and  Isle, 
where  "Lafitte"  had  his  rendezvous  before  the  last  war 
with  England ;  and  in  the  sweet  place  where  we  pitched 
our  camp,  Theodore  and  Constanza  had  doubtless  walked 
and  sighed  and  loved  beneath  the  same  golden  moon  that 
shone  on  us. 

"Suppose,"  said  one  of  our  romantic  young  ladies 
"that  there  should  be  buccaneers  here  now,  and  that  they 
should  suddenly  appear  in  one  of  their  terrible  long,  low, 
black  schooners  opposite  our  cove,  and  come  in  and  fight 
with  our  defenders,  conquer  them,  and  carry  us  all  off  to 
some  remote  isle,  where  in  some  splendid  cavern  they 
live  like  kings  and  lords!" 

The  pretty  Marid  ejaculated,  "Not  for  the  world!" 
The  noble  Mathilde  smiled  and  said,  "  How  romantic  it 
would  he  I"  Grace  Lyndall,  one  of  our  belles,  clapped 
her  beautiful  hands  and  exclaimed, 

"  Of  all  things  how  I  should  like  it!" 

"Don't  speak  of  such  things,  I  beg  of  you,"  said  the 
young  and  charming  Madame  Dumont,  who  with  her 
husband  had  joined  us,  the  evening  before,  from  their 
plantation. 

"  The  tents  are  all  pitched  and  ready  for  occupation, 
fair  dames  all,"  said  Monsieur  M.  from  the  shore,  "but 
what  are  you  talking  about? — the  pirates?" 

"Yes,  colonel,  and  we  were  wishing  that  a  nice,  long, 
low,  black,  saucy-looking  schooner,  would  pay  us  a 
sudden  visit,  and  carry  us  all  off,"  said  Grace;  and  this 
girl  had  the  richest  voice,  that  I  ever  heard  from 
woman's  lips;  every  sound  that  music  knows  were  min- 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT    HOME.  4Y9 

gled  with  a  surfeit  of  sweetness  in  the  golden  alembic 
of  its  tones. 

We  were  soon  all  on  shore,  and  were  perfectly  charmed 
with  the  preparations  which  the  taste  and  attention  of 
the  gentlemen  had  made  for  us.  The  green  sward,  the 
bright  moon,  a  violin  which  Scipio  (one  of  our  boatmen) 
was  tuning,  and  the  joyousness  of  the  occasion  tempted 
us  to  dance;  and  for  an  hour  we  outdid  Queen  Mab  and 
her  fairy  ball.  Suddenly,  while  we  were  in  the  midst 
of  our  gaiety,  a  long,  low,  black,  ominous-looking  vessel 
poked  her  sharp  nose  around  the  point,  and  as  her  tall 
sails  became  visible  in  the  broad  moonbeams,  Grace 
Lyndall,  who  first  espied  it,  as  she  was  splendidly  schot- 
tisching  with  her  cousin  Louis,  uttered  the  loudest  and 
most  terrified  shriek,  that  I  ever  heard  or  ever  hope  to 
hear! 

It  transfixed  us  all  like  statues,  and  Scipio's  music 
froze  stiff  on  the  strings  of  his  fiddle  bow.  Grace  ended 
her  scream  in  total  unconsciousness,  for  she  became 
instantly  insensible  on  Louis'  arm.  The  rest  of  the 
ladies,  beholding  the  same  dreadful  vision,  took  up  the 
key-note,  and  screamed  "most  musically,"  each  clinging 
to  one  of  the  gentlemen. 

Mari^  gasped  to  my  husband,  "Save — oh — save  me!" 
As  for  myself,  I  was  petrified  with  bewildering  asto- 
nishment. That  it  could  be  a  buccaneer,  I  could  not 
for  a  moment  believe;  but  reflecting  where  we  were, 
and  what  the  island  had  been,  I  began  to  wish  little 
Harry  and  myself  and  husband  and  all  of  us  safe  at  home 
again. 

The  younger  gentlemen  ran  for  their  arms;  but  be- 
fore  any   defensive   steps   could  be   taken,  the   whole 


480  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

hull  of  the  schooner  came  in  open  view,  not  three 
hundred  yards  distant,  and  from  her  deck  came  a 
hoarse  hail,  that  nearly  killed  out  what  little  courage  I 
had  left. 

"Ahoy!  what  boats  are  those?" 

And  with  the  words  we  could  see  a  lighted  fusee  in 
the  hand  of  a  man  who  was  standing  by  a  cannon  that 
was  pointing  towards  poor  us. 

"Pirates  without  question!"  said  my  husband  gravely; 
*'  and  we  must  make  the  best  battle  we  can !" 

"  Oh,  no — no  !"  cried  the  ladies;  "it  cannot  be  so  bad 
as  that !" 

"  Ahoy,  ashore !  Give  an  account  of  yourselves,  or 
we  fire  into  you !"  was  again  thundered  from  her  deck. 

"A  pleasure  party,"  answered  the  colonel;  "nothing 
more  !     Are  you  the  surveying  Revenue  Cutter  ?" 

"Yes,"  answered  the  officer  on  deck,  laughing  so  that 
we  could  hear  him;  "beg  pardon  for  disturbing  you. 
But  we  were  informed  by  the  skipper  of  a  sloop,  an  hour 
ago,  that  hailed  us  on  the  south  side  of  the  island,  that 
he  had  been  chased  by  a  fleet  of  armed  boats.  The 
ladies  will  please  accept  my  apologies  and  regrets  for 
alarming  them." 

We  were  now  all  mortification  and  laughter.  The 
captain  of  the  cutter  was  hailed,  and  invited  to  land, 
which  he  did  in  a  four-oared  boat.  He  was  a  fine- 
looking  young  officer,  and  enjoyed  our  fright  vastly, 
when  the  gentlemen — to  two  of  whom  he  was  known 
— informed  him  of  our  table  chat  about  "Lafitte." 
We  invited  him  to  dine  with  us  next  day,  as  he  grace- 
fully took    his   leave   of  us,  and   in   a  little  while  we 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  481 

sa\7  the  vessel  which  had  caused  us  such  a  terrible  fright 

gliding  slowly  and  beautifully  away  until  she  was  lost  in 

the  distant  haze  of  mist  and  moonbeams. 

Yours  truly, 

Kate. 
31 


'182  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OK, 


LETTER    LXIV. 


Dear  Mr. : 

It  seems  to  me  very  strange  that  people  will  not 
take  folks  as  they  are,  and  not  amuse  themselves  with 
guessing  that  somebody  is  somebody  else.  Now  I  hear 
and  see  from  certain  editorial  notices  of  my  poor 
Needles,  that  I  am  not  Kate  Conyngham  at  all,  but  that 
this  is  a  nom  deplume^  a  mere  masque  to  conceal  my 
true  features.  Another  saucy  fellow  of  an  editor  as- 
serts that  I  am  not  a  3Iiss  at  all,  but  that  I  am  a  Mister 
W.,  or  Mister  D.,  or  some  other  gentleman.  Dear  me  ! 
What  can  there  be  so  masculine  in  my  poor  Needles  as 
to  give  rise  to  such  a  hint  ?  Even  those  sage  persons 
who  believe  me  to  be  a  lady  declare  that  I  am  Miss 
Pardee,  the  authoress  ;  some,  that  I  am  the  fair  daughter 

of  the  Rev.  Mr, of  Mobile ;  and  some,  that  I  am 

a  younger  sister  of ;  and  somebody  says,  I  dare 

say,  that  I  am  nobody  at  all. 

Now,  Mr. ,  I  protest  against  all  this  skepticism. 

Have  I  not  been  for  five  years,  or  more,  your  corres- 
pondent ?  Can  you  not  bear  testimony  to  my  person- 
ality and  alleged  identity  ?  Have  you  not  seen  my  let- 
ters, and  have  you  not,  at  this  moment,  my  daguerreo- 
type ?  I  call  upon  you  to  bear  witness  to  my  having 
been  Miss  Katharine  Conyngham,  and  no  other  lady  else, 
and  that,  though  I  am  now  a  married  dame,  I  am  entitled 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  488 

to  that  former  name,  if  I  choose  to  retain  it  as  an  au- 
thoress. Because  the  talented  Fanny  Fern,  Grrace  Green- 
wood, and  other  brilliant  autorial  ladies,  have  noma 
de  plume,  is  no  reason  that  every  one  should  have  ! 

Please  say  to  these  naughty  editors  that  I  am  myself, 
and  nobody  else,  and  that  I  am  not  a  mere  shadow,  au 
'^  umbra  umhr arum," — if  that  is  bad  Latin  recollect  it 
is  lady's  Latin ;  and  that  ladies  can  decline  Bonus  better 
than  a  certain  western  member  of  congress,  who  once 
gave,  as  the  relic  of  schooldom,  the  following  toast : — 

"  The  ladies — Bonus,  honior,  bonissimus  !  good,  better, 
best !     The  Lord  bless  'em  !" 

But  to  our  pic-nic  campaign  !  I  ended  my  last  letter 
with  an  account  of  our  visit  from  an  imaginary  buccaneer. 
That  night  we  slept  as  safely  in  our  tents  as  we  should 
have  done  at  home ;  and  as  the  gentlemen  took  turns, 
two  at  the  time,  in  standing  guard  to  see  that  we  were 
not  intruded  upon  by  mischievous  animals  from  land  or 
water,  we  felt  perfectly  secure.  I  recollect  falling  asleep, 
soothed  by  the  sweet  melody  of  a  guitar  and  a  fine  manly 
voice.  It  was  the  cavalier,  Louis,  serenading  outside  her 
tent  the  fair  Mathilde  within. 

In  the  morning  we  were  up  bright  and  early,  and, 
finding  breakfast  all  prepared  by  the  willing  servants, 
we  were  soon  ready  for  the  day's  adventures.  The 
order  for  the  day  was,  that  the  ladies  who  chose  to  do  so 
should  accompany  the  hunters  in  the  largest  yacht,  as 
the  former  rowed  around  the  island,  in  search  of  game ; 
and  that  they  should  fish,  crochet,  read,  and  amuse 
themselves  as  they  pleased,  while  the  gentlemen  landed 
and  pursued  their  sport. 

We  had  a  delightful  row  around  the  point,  to  the  south 


484  THE   SUNNY   SOIJTn  ;    OR, 

of  the  island,  where  we  again  saw  the  cutter  which  we 
had  taken  for  a  buccaneer.  It  was  a  beautiful  object,  all 
grace  and  symmetry,  her  white  wings  spread,  and  her 
taper  masts  diminishing  to  mere  wands. 

With  all  her  lightness  and  grace,  her  black  hull  and 
warlike  guns  gave  her  a  battle  air  that  made  me  think 
of  sea  fights,  and  all  the  horrors  of  naval  warfare. 

Far  away  to  the  west  we  saw  two  other  vessels,  one  of 
which  was  the  runaway  sloop ;  but  she  was  now  trying 
to  regain  the  mouth  of  the  Lafourche,  no  doubt  satisfied 
that,  as  the  revenue  cutter  did  not  molest  us,  we  were 
harmless  people,  with  all  our  fusilading  and  huzzaing. 

But  I  will  not  take  up  your  time,  Mr. ,  in  making 

you  read  a  complete  journal  of  our  ten  days'  stay  in  the 
islands  of  the  Gulf,  for  we  did  not  confine  ourselves  to 
the  Isle  of  Birds,  but  on  the  fifth  day,  during  which  we 
had  charming  weather,  the  gentlemen  got  up  an  expedi- 
tion to  Barrataria  Bay,  a  few  leagues  eastward.  They 
had  got  weary  of  killing  !  Birds  of  all  wings,  alligators, 
deer,  and  fish  of  all  fins,  had  rewarded  them  and  our 
praiseworthy  efforts ;  and  a  change,  for  the  sake  of 
variety,  was  gladly  welcomed.  "We,  therefore,  left  a 
guard  of  two  servants  with  our  tents,  and,  having  pro- 
visioned our  boats  for  three  days,  we  all  embarked  in  the 
sunny,  bright  morning  on  our  coasting  expedition.  At 
this  season  of  the  year  the  weather  is  all  unbrokenly 
fair,  and  rain  was  no  more  to  be  feared  than  an  earth- 
quake. 

It  was  a  delightful  voyage  along  the  curving  Gulf 
shore,  from  which  we  did  not  venture  more  than  four  or 
five  miles.  Now  and  then  we  could  see  a  distant  sail 
that  lay  low  on  the  horizon,  and  looking  no  bigger  than 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  485 

a  ladj's  finger-nail.  About  noon  I  discovered,  with  my 
"sharp"  eyes,  a  brown  smoke,  seemingly  rising  from 
the  sea.     I  pointed  it  out  to  Marie,  and  she  exclaimed: 

"  A  volcano  at  sea !" 

Whereupon  everybody  looked  from  all  the  boats. 

"It  is  a  steamer,  bound  from  New  Orleans  to  Gal- 
veston," said  my  husband,  the  admiral  of  our  fleet. 

"But  we  see  no  vessel,  only  smoke,"  remarked  Grace, 
trying  to  steady  a  spy  glass,  which  Louis  was  holding 
with  both  hands  to  her  eye. 

"  The  boat  itself  is  under  the  line  of  the  horizon,"  said 
Colonel  M. 

"  The  periphery  of  the  earth  conceals  it  beneath  the 
curved  line  of  the  arc  of  the  convex  horizon,"  said  one 
of  the  young  men  who  had  lately  left  college,  and  was 
entitled  to  talk  learnedly. 

The  sight  of  a  column  of  smoke,  actually  rising  from 
beneath  the  level  sea  line  of  the  horizon,  was  a  novel 
sight.  With  the  spy -glass  we  could  see  the  smoke  rolling 
and  rolling  skyward,  as  if  not  more  than  a  mile  apparent 
distance,  yet  no  sign  of  chimney  or  masts  discernible ! 
There  it  ascended  from  its  invisible  smoke-pipe,  for  all 
the  world  like  a  volcano  belching  itself  up  out  of  the 
Gulf.  We  followed  it  with  our  eyes  until  it  gradually 
receded  westward,  and  disappeared  in  an  hour  far  below 
the  horizon's  arc. 

It  is  a  very  strange  sight  to  see  smoke  traveling  along 
the  sea  in  that  style,  without  any  apparent  cause  ap- 
pended. What  a  visible  proof  of  the  earth's  sphericity 
it  is !  I  recollect  when  we  passed  Portsmouth,  in 
England,  the  masts  only  of  the  British  fleet  were  visible, 
looking  like  a  forest  in  the  water,  the  hulls  being  below 


486  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

the  curve.  The  truth  is,  that  there  can  be  no  such  thing 
as  a  perfectly  straight  line  on  this  globulous  earth !  Even 
the  yardstick  is  but  a  curved  wand,  to  be  sure  the  arc 
it  makes  is  not  perceptible ;  and  the  floors  of  our  houses 
if  extended  far  enough,  would  form  an  arc  of  the  earth's 
circle  of  more  or  less  degrees.  The  term  level  is  a 
misnomer — it  does  not  exist.  Tbere  is  nothing  level  or 
plain — sphericity  possesses  all  things  terrestrial. 

One  wouldn't  suppose  that  such  a  big  world  as  ours 
would  betray  its  roundness,  in  so  short  a  distance  as  lay 
between  us  and  the  steamer.  I  have  no  doubt,  with 
proper  data  to  start  with,  that  the  height  of  a  steamer's 
chimney  being  known,  and  also  her  exact  distance  from 
the  eye,  a  calculation  could  be  made  which  would  reach 
a  figure  that  would  show  the  earth's  circumference  in 
miles. 

Last  summer,  while  at  the  beautiful  watering  place  at 
Pass  Christian,  I  made  a  curious  and  perhaps  new 
calculation  of  ascertaining  the  distance  of  an  object. 
There  is  a  light-ship  moored  nine  miles  off  the  town.  I 
found  that  by  placing  a  small  needle  at  arm's  length 
horizontally  until  the  needle  and  ship  appeared  to  be  ex- 
actly the  same  length,  which  is  when  the  needle  covers 
the  ship's  length  completely,  that  I  could  verify  the  dis- 
tance to  be  nine  miles.  I  did  it  in  this  way :  I  first  fixed 
the  needle  horizontally  by  striking  it  in  a  post  level  with 
my  eye.  I  then  stepped  back  until  the  needle  and  ship 
were  blended  in  one  another  exactly.  I  then  measured 
the  distance  between  my  eye  and  the  needle  in  inches. 
As  I  knew  the  length  of  the  needle  and  of  the  ship,  with 
these  three  known  terms,  I  obtained  accurately,  the 
fourth  unknown  one.     Perhaps  the  process  is  known  to 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  48T 

mathematicians ;  if  so,  I  will  not  take  out  a  patent.  I 
wish  some  of  your  "great  cypherers"  would  verify  this 
process. 

But  I  am  getting  too  learned,  and  must  go  back  to  our 
pic-nic.  All  that  day  we  coasted  along  the  level  green 
shores  of  the  Gulf,  with  not  a  tree  visible  for  two  and 
three  leagues  inland,  and  then  they  looked  like  round  blue 
clouds.     No  shores  can  be  more  tame ! 

At  length,  just  as  the  lovely  day  was  closing,  we  came 
into  the  mouth  of  "Lafitte's  Bay,"  as  it  is  termed,  and 
on  our  right  saw  the  island  Barrataria,  where  the  bucca- 
neer had  his  rendezvous.  Now  it  looked  peaceful  enough. 
A  few  fishermen  and  a  fleet  of  oyster  boats  were  anchored 
around  it,  plying  their  fishy  trade ;  and  we  could  discover 
above  a  group  of  trees  the  roof  of  a  mansion  where  resides, 
or  did  reside,  a  planter,  who  had  a  sugar  plantation  on  the 
island.  The  gentleman's  name  I  believe  is  Bennet,  and 
he  has  fair  daughters,  whose  presence  throw  a  grace  over 
the  scenes  of  ancient  buccaneerdom,  that  disassociates 
the  island  of  all  its  former  renown,  as  the  home  of  the 
pirates.  We  remained  on  board  our  boats  all  night ;  and 
such  a  star  bright  night  never  was !  The  atmosphere  ap- 
peared to  be  full  of  light.  The  splendor  of  the  fixed  stars, 
and  the  milder  lustre  of  the  planets  were  unsurpassed. 
The  heavens  seemed  to  come  nearer  to  us.  Every  star 
above  had  a  star  beneath  it  on  the  sea;  and  when  the 
moon  arose  about  eleven  o'clock,  there  was  a  pavement 
of  silver  across  the  water  from  our  feet  to  her  very 
throne. 

The  next  day  we  wandered  over  the  island,  and  pic- 
nic'd  on  the  grassy  glacis  of  the  ruined  fortress  which 
Lafitte  fortified  to  defend  his  island  home  against  cruisers. 


488  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

A  large  oak  stood  near,  beneath  which  he  had  his  tent, 
"which,  says  tradition,  was  more  luxuriously  furnished 
than  an  Oriental  prince's.  We  were  shown  by  an  old 
French  fisherman,  who  knew  Lafitte,  a  gun  that  once 
belonged  to  his  vessel ;  and  as  the  old  man,  who  could 
not  have  been  less  than  seventy,  loved  to  talk  of  the 
famous  smuggler,  we  let  him  relate  his  stories  to  which 
we  listened — being  on  the  ground  itself  of  the  scenes — 
with  lively  interest. 

Louis  read  aloud  several  pages  from  one  of  the  ro- 
mances, and  we  sought  to  verify  all  the  descriptions ;  but 
novelists  cannot  always  make  use  of  placid  and  level 
scenery,  and  they  remove  mountains  and  place  them 
where  they  want  them ;  and  gardens,  waterfalls,  vales 
and  groves,  cliffs  and  rivulets,  all  obey  the  waving  of 
their  wand,  and  presto !  appear  when  they  command. 
But  we  found  mainly  the  novel  and  the  scene  in  gratify- 
ing harmony,  one  with  the  other ;  and  where  there  was 
a  difference,  was  evidently  owing  to  the  changes  pro- 
duced by  time  and  circumstances.  Our  visit  was  a  most 
satisfactory  one,  and  we  re-embarked  at  evening,  de- 
lighted with  our  excursion  over  the  Pirate's  Isle. 

On  the  evening  of  the  third  day  we  reached  our  en- 
campment without  mishap,  and  found  all  safe.  The 
next  morning  we  struck  tents,  and,  with  our  boats  filled 
with  game  and  its  trophies,  we  set  sail,  with  a  fine  land- 
ward wind,  for  the  mouth  of  La  Fourche.  As  you  al- 
ready know  the  scenery  of  that  bayou,  Mr. ,  I  will 

not  describe  our  voyage  home,  which  we  reached  on  the 
third  day,  all  well,  and  marvelously  sun-browned ;  look- 
ing like  so  many  gipsies.  As  for  my  Harry,  the  little 
fellow's  cheeks  are  as  brown  as  a  chinquapin ;  but  he  has 


THE   SOUTHEKNER   AT   HOME.  489 

gained  full  four  pounds,  and  is  more  saucy  and  handsome 
than  ever. 

I  was  charmed  to  be  once  more  at  home.  Not  all  the 
beautiful  cabins  and  pretty  yachts,  and  fishing  and 
camping  out  under  markees,  can  compensate  for  one's 
own  home.  Home  is  home,  and  nothing  else  could  he 
home  !  I  would  rather  live  in  a  cabin  of  logs,  and  feel 
that  it  was  my  home ;  that  there  was  a  peg  for  my  hus- 
band's hat ;  a  place  for  his  chair  in  one  corner,  and  my 
work-stand  in  the  other ;  on  my  right  hand  my  little  tea 
cup-board,  and  on  the  other  the  stand  with  the  large 
Bible,  the  cat  on  the  rug,  and  old  Buck,  the  house-dog, 
chained  in  his  kennel ;  my  milch-cow  and  her  calf  in  the 
neat  yard,  and  nobody  to  molest  or  rule  over  us,  as  one 
finds  it  even  in  the  best  of  boarding-houses. 

There  is  a  wretched  and  unhappy  custom  in  vogue,  for 
young  married  couples  to  go  to  a  hotel  or  boarding- 
house  !  When  should  husband  and  wife  love  to  be  by 
themselves  in  their  own  home,  if  not  the  first  months 
and  year  of  marriage  ?  It  is  a  miserable  life,  garish, 
hollow,  artificial,  love-killing,  heart-withering  life,  this 
boarding,  for  young  couples  !  Girls,  better  wait  a-wee ! 
better  delay  than  be  married  and  put  under  the  peculiar 
system  of  keen-eyed  espionage  and  authority  common  to 
boarding-houses.  Boarders  have  no  souls  of  their  own 
— that  is,  they  dare  not  say  so  !  Keep  house — if  only 
in  one  room  !  You  will  be  happier,  and  your  husband 
will  love  you  better,  and  it  will  be  far  better  for  you 
both.  A  boarding-house  life,  for  the  fresh  young  hearts 
of  new  married  folks,  is,  with  all  deference  and  respect 
for  all  lady-like,  and  good,  kind  landladies,  like  a  killing 


490  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

frost  upon  the  young  buds  of  spring.     One  never  livea 
that  boards !     One  only  8tai/8  and  endures  ! 

But,  good-bye,  Mr. 

Your  friend, 

Kate,  and  noboby  else. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT  HOME.  491 


LETTER    LXV. 


My  Dear  Mr.  : 

I  AM,  for  a  few  days,  sojourning  in  this  lovely  shore- 
side  village  of  villas.  Pass  Christian.  It  is,  as  the  map 
will,  or  ought  to  show  you,  on  Lake  Pontchartrain,  where 
the  south  border  of  Mississippi  is  washed  by  the  waves 
of  the  salt  sea.  The  "Pass,"  as  it  is  familiarly  called, 
is  celebrated  for  its  pure  and  salubrious  air,  the  beauty 
of  its  site,  the  elegance  of  its  private  mansions,  the  re- 
finement and  wealth  of  its  citizens,  its  excellent  academy 
of  education  for  young  misses,  and  its  military  school ; 
moreover,  it  is  the  favorite  summer  resort  of  the  more 
opulent  New  Orleanois,  many  of  whom  have  built  taste- 
ful abodes  along  the  shore  facing  the  lake,  where  gar- 
dens and  lawns,  porticoes  and  verandahs,  enchant  the 
eye. 

There  is  properly  only  one  street  comprising  the  town ; 
but  this  street  is  four  miles  long,  open  one  side  to  the 
breezes  of  gulf,  and  on  the  other  bordered  by  handsome 
villas,  most  of  its  length. 

A  little  brown  Roman  Catholic  chapel  lifts  its  cross 
amid  these  mansions,  its  front  adorned  with  two  statues, 
one  of  the  Virgin,  and  another  of  St.  Paul,  in  a  niche 
high  above  the  entrance.  There  is  appended  to  the  lat- 
ter, this  inscription : — 


492  the  sunny  south;  or, 

"doctori  gentiam;" 

So,  to  the  Teacher  of  the  Nations,  this  chapel  is  dedi- 
cated, while  "Mary,"  like  the  goddess  Diana,  (for  the 
blessed  Virgin  is  now  made  a  goddess  by  the  Pope,) 
stands  upon  a  pedestal  above,  to  receive  the  homage  and 
worship  of  her  votaries.  Jesus,  being  always  repre- 
sented only  as  a  little  child,  is  quite  cast  into  the  shade 
by  His  mother.  The  Romans,  in  their  adorations,  never 
seem  to  contemplate  Christ  as  a  man,  but  only  as  the 
"child  Jesus"  in  the  mother's  arms,  and  hence  transfer 
all  their  worship  to  the  mother,  whom,  it  would  seem, 
they  believe  more  capable  of  appreciating  it  than  a  babe. 
I  think  this,  as  I  have  before  remarked,  is  the  secret  of 
their  Mariolatry. 

Nevertheless,  it  is  a  pretty  little  chapel,  and  in  keep-  j 
ing  with  the  place ;  but  its  worshipers  are  chiefly  of  the 
humble  class  of  Creole  fishermen,  and  descendants  of 
the  old  French  families ;  for  the  Pass  was  once  wholly 
French.  Here  the  Marquis  of  Ponchartrain  once  so- 
journed, and  buried  his  only  daughter,  who,  report  says,  „ 
died  of  love  for  an  Indian  Prince.  Her  grave  is  beneath.  | 
three  live  oaks  that  stand  on  the  verge  of  the  beach,  not 
far  from  the  chapel ;  but  the  head-stone  has  long  since 
disappeared.  It  was  this  nobleman  who  gave  name  to 
the  lake.  The  residence  of  the  Marquis,  who  was  one 
of  the  most  accomplished  courtiers  of  the  French  court, 
and  sent  by  Louis  to  govern  this  Province,  is  now  marked 
only  by  the  site  of  the  light  house,  which  stands  in  a 
garden;  a  lovely  object,  peering  above  the  trees,  and 
singularly  contrasting  with  the  usual  desolate  look  of 
such  edifices,  standing  alone  and   treeless   upon  some 


THE   SOUTHERNER  AT   HOME.  493 

storm-beaten  headland.  In  the  same  garden  with  thia 
snow-white  tower,  which,  after  sunset  sends  its  brilliant 
light  far  out  upon  the  waters,  guiding  the  mariner  home, 
is  the  village  post-office ;  a  snug  little  cottage  nestling 
under  its  walls.  The  post-master  is  a  "lady,"  and  the 
daughter,  if  I  mistake  not,  of  the  famous  Captain  Hearn, 
who,  in  the  last  war,  beat  off  a  British  vessel  that  was 
coming  in  to  fire  the  town ;  or  he  did  some  equally  brave 
act,  for  which,  government  at  this  day  rewards  the 
daughter  by  an  office,  as  it  did  the  father.  A  son  of 
this  sea-fighter  commanded  the  superb  steamer,  Cuba,  in 
which  we  came  over  from  New  Orleans ;  and,  though  a 
large,  rough  looking  man,  he  has  a  great  and  generous 
heart,  and  is  as  true  a  gentleman  as  ever  took  off  his  hat 
to  a  lady ;  and  looks  as,  if  there  were  any  more  fighting 
to  do  for  his  country,  he  would  not  be  found  wanting. 
When  I  was  quite  a  young  girl,Q[^used  to  think  no  man 
could  be  a  gentleman  who  did  not  dress  in  the  "fashion," 
wear  kid  gloves,  a  nicely  brushed  hat,  and  polished  boots, 
with  one  ring  at  least,  and  a  gold  watch.  But  that  was 
the  folly  and  ignorance  of  girlhood,  which  thinks  all  lov- 
ers should  be  knights  in  helmet  and  buckler,  and  that  no 
young  knight  was  fit  for  a  lady's  love  who  had  not  killed 
his  rival  and  her  other  lover  in  a  "wager  of  battle." 

Dear  me !  I  have  had  time  to  reverse  my  decision 
since  then ;  and  much  dressed  men  I  always  suspect !  1 
have  found  in  the  world  that  the  truest  merit  is  without 
affectation ;  and  that  a  right  down  gentleman  thinks  but 
little  of  fashion  ,  and  so  I  have  met  with  as  noble  and 
true  gentlemen  in  rough  linsey-woolsey  garb,  as  in 
broadcloth.  In  a  word,  I  do  not  now  form  a  precon- 
ceived opinion  of  a  man  from  his  dress  or  appearance. 


'494  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;    OE, 

The  most  eminent  men  that  one  falls  in  with  in  tra- 
veling, are  the  plainest  and  simplest  in  dress  and 
manner.^ 

The  Pass,  as  I  have  said,  consists  in  one  long  street, 
that  winds  and  bends  with  the  graceful  curve  of  the  lake 
shore.     About  the  centre  of  this  is  the  landing  place, 
where  passengers  embark  and  disembark  for  Mobile  or     . 
New  Orleans;  these  cities  being  about  equi-distant  (or  if 
seven  hours'  sail)  on  each  side  of  the  Pass. 

About  half  a  mile  from  the  pier,  westward,  is  the     i 
Lake  Institute,  at  the  head  of  which  is  the  Rector  of  the   *\ 
church  here,  Rev.  Dr.  Savage,  the  gentleman  who  was 
pioneer  in  the  Cape  Palmas  mission,  and  who  remained    J 
nine  years  in  Africa,  which  owes  more  to  him  than  to  any     I 
other   man   living,  for  her   religious   prosperity.     The 
doctor  is  a  scientific  man,  and  is  a  member  of  several 
foreign  and  cis- Atlantic  Academies  of  Science  ;  and,  as     , 
a  naturalist,  he  stands  in  the  front  rank.     I  was  charmed    |j 
with  a  visit  made  yesterday  to  his  school,  which  is  a    || 
large  southern-built  mansion  house,  facing  the  lake,  from     ' 
which  it  is  separated  by  a  spacious  lawn,  tastefully  orna- 
mented.    The  trees  of  a  pine  grove  form  a  dark,  rich 
background  to  the  house  and  its  dormitories  and  study 
hall.     This  school  is  the  best  in  the  South,  and  deservedly    , 
has  a  high  reputation.     It  numbers  about  sixty  pupils,   ^ 
which,  I  believe,  is  its  full  limit.     It  is  patronized  chiefly 
by  Mobile  and  New  Orleans ;  and  of  the  former  city  I 
saw  at  least  a  dozen  fair  girls,  whose  beauty  gives  one  a 
favorable  idea  of  female  loveliness  in  that  city,  which  we 
are  soon  to  visit. 

•  So  great  is  the  hostility  of  the  northern  abolitionists 
against  the  South,  that  southern  parents  are  becoming 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  495 

more  and  more  reluctant  to  send  their  sons  and  daugh- 
ters there  to  return  with  hostile  opinions  to  create  dis- 
cord and  confusion  at  home.  For  self-protection  they 
are  rallying  around  their  own  Colleges  and  Female  In- 
stitutes ;  and  all  that  has  heen  wanting  was  this  union 
of  purpose,  to  raise  schools  of  learning  to  the  highest 
scholastic  rank.  Northern  teachers  are  regarded  with 
suspicion,  though  employed.  Lately  Professor  Silliman 
has  struck  a  death-blow  to  the  sending  southern  young 
men  north,  by  asserting  in  a  public  lecture :  "  We  do 
not  want  your  southern  youth  !  We  can  get  along  with- 
out them  !"  It  will  be  a  bold  Southerner  that  sends  his 
son  to  a  northern  college  after  this. 

Even  the  school-books  published  in  the  North  are  to 
be  expurgated,  ere  they  will  be  introduced  into  Southern 
schools,  for  instance,  in  a  geography  now  before  me, 
printed  in  New  York,  occurs  a  sentence  which  says  "that 
the  negroes  will  yet  one  day  rise  against  the  Southern 
planters  and  destroy  them;"  and  fifty  other  such  things 
are  in  Northern  school  books.  The  result  will  be,  that 
unless  Abolitionism  cease  its  hostility,  the  South  will 
separate  itself  from  the  North  virtually,  by  having  its 
own  teachers,  schools,  clergy,  mechanics,  literature,  and 
books  of  education.  * 

The  church,  of  which  the  Rev.  Dr.  Savage  is  Rector, 
is  near  the  Institute,  in  a  grove  of  oaks  and  pines.  It 
is  a  picturesque  Gothic  edifice,  and  the  very  beau  ideal 
of  a  rural  church.  In  the  rear  is  the  cemetery,  with  a 
handsome  arch  above  the  gate-way,  and  contains  several 
tasteful  tombs.  A  Sabbath  holiness  and  quiet  reigned 
over  the  spot  when  I  visited  it  yesterday.  I  was  shown 
there  the  grave  of  a  wealthy  young  South  Carolinian, 


496  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

who  had  been  a  dissipated  man  and  a  sceptic.  Just  be- 
fore he  died  he  desired  ten  acres  to  be  purchased  of 
government  in  the  wild  forest  beyond  the  town,  and  a 
grave  to  be  dug  in  the  centre,  wherein  he  directed  his 
friends  to  place  his  body;  and  after  filling  the  grave,  to 
smooth  it  level  with  the  surrounding  earth,  and  removing 
all  signs  of  sepulture,  let  the  grass  and  the  brush  grow 
up  and  conceal  it  from  human  search ;  and  in  order  that 
it  might  be  forgotten,  the  land  was  never  to  be  claimed 
by  his  heritors,  but  to  revert  to  the  government  again  as 
wild  land. 

This  Will — the  expression  of  a  soul  dark  and  desolate, 
without  the  hopes  and  promises  of  the  Gospel,  which 
make  the  grave  a  hallowed  rest,  above  which  Hope  ever 
hovers  on  golden  wings,  waiting  the  resurrection  morn — 
this  Will  was,  of  course,  not  carried  out.  His  body  was 
conveyed  to  this  secluded  cemetery,  and  here  interred, 
with  all  the  respect  that  the  living  owe  the  dead. 

Upon  leaving  this  solemn  home  of  the  dead  of  earth, 
our  steps  took  us  in  the  direction  of  a  mound  near  the 
village  blacksmith's  dingy  shop.  Already  I  knew  the 
story  of  this  green  mound  of  earth;  but  an  old  negro, 
"Uncle  Tom,"  at  the  shop,  gravely  and  politely,  with 
his  hat  in  his  hand,  informed  my  husband,  "Dat  it  was 
de  fort  General  Jackson  fout  the  Indjuns  from."  Gen- 
eral Jackson  however  never  "fout"  at  the  Pass. 

The  mound  is  now  much  worn  away ;  but  trees  grow 
upon  it  showing  its  age.  It  is  an  interesting  relic  of  the 
past.  By  the  French  it  was  called  the  "Young  King's 
Tomb."  The  tradition  is,  that  when  the  Indian  chief 
heard  that  Eugenie,  the  daughter  of  Marquis  Pontchar- 
train,  had  wilted   and  died   like  a   blighted  flower,  he 


THE    SOUTHERNER   AT    HOME.  497 

refused  to  eat,  broke  his  spear  in  two,  buried  his  arrows, 
and  sat  day  and  night  upon  her  grave  singing  his  death 
song.  At  length  he  was  found  cold  and  dead  one  sun- 
rise, his  head  laid  upon  her  grave.  The  warriors  bore 
his  body  to  the  place  where  his  father  was  buried,  and 
entombed  him  with  his  arms,  beneath  a  mound  which 
their  affection  raised  to  his  memory.  Not  far  distant  is 
another  mound,  not  so  high,  where  repose  the  bones  of 
Tamala,  his  father.  The  sound  of  the  forge  and  the 
anvil  alone  break  the  stillness  of  the  spot. 

As  we  turned  away  to  resume  our  loitering  about  the 
Pass,  a  man  walked  slowly  by,  whom  a  lady,  who  was 
with  us,  pointed  out  as  the  son  of  a  celebrated  buccaneer 
who  used  to  rendezvous  here. 

Afterwards  I  saw  this  man,  now  a  peaceable  citizen, 
part  farmer,  part  fisherman,  who  not  only  verified  the 
assertion,  but  from  him  I  learned  that  his  brother,  who 
dwelt  upon  the  coast,  had  in  his  possession  a  package  of 
papers  and  a  chart  of  an  island  in  the  Gulf,  which  directed 
where  exactly  to  find  buried  a  great  treasure.  This 
treasure  consisted  of  the  spoils,  he  said,  of  Spanish  ships, 
and  had  been  buried  on  one  of  the  Tortugas' ;  but  no  man 
had  yet  been  to  search  for  it.  He  has  promised  to  get 
the  papers,  which  he  said  are  written  in  French,  and  a 

copy  of  the  chart.     Hear  that,  Mr. !     The  next  I 

shall  hear  of  you,  may  be,  that  you  are  commanding  a 
schooner  in  search  of  this  hidden  treasure ! 

There  is  no  doubt  about  this  man  having  "the  papers," 
I  am  told  by  a  gentleman  here ;  but  as  such  researches 
have  so  often  proved  failures,  no  attention  has  been  paid 

to  the  fact.     You  shall  be  duly  informed,  Mr. ,  wlien 

I  discover  the  hidden  gold. 
32 


498  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

This  was  once  a  famous  haunt  for  buccaneers,  and  after 
cruisers  broke  up  their  "dreadful  trade,"  they  settled 
down  here  in  quiet  occupations ;  and  among  the  humble 
French  citizens,  are  found  their  descendants — inoffensive 
people  enough,  who  subsist  by  fishing  and  coasting. 

There  is  a  Military  Academy  here  under  the  command 
of  Ashbel  Green,  once  a  lawyer  in  Philadelphia,  and  son 
to  a  former  President  of  Princeton   College.     It  is,  I 
understand,    a   very   efficient   school,   with   about   fifty   | 
cadets.  I 

There  is   an   amusing   peculiarity  of  water   scenery 
here  at  the  Pass.     Every  house  on  the  shore  has  its 
private   bath-house.     The  water  being  shoal,  they  are 
erected  at  the  end  of  a  wharf  projecting  sometimes  a 
thousand  feet  out  into  the  lake.     Thus,  when  one  looks    ^ 
up  or  down  the  shore  in  front  of  the  town,  the  eye  is 
filled  with  the  spectacle  of  one  or  two  hundred  narrow 
bridges  and  bathing-houses,  built  on  the  water.     At  even- 
ing and  other  bathing-hours,  these  bridges  "in  the  season" 
are  filled  with  ladies  and  children  and  servants,  going  to 
and  from  the  baths;  the  former  grotesquely  arrayed  in 
long  waistless  robes  of  calico  or  gingham,  and  their  faces  I 
concealed  by  horrid   hoods  or  veils.     At  such  hours,    i 
gentlemen  are  tabooed  the  baths ;  but  they  have  their    ' 
time  too.     Nothing  is  thought  of,  or  spoken  of  in  summer, 
but  bathing.     "Have  you  bathed  to-day?"  takes  the 
place  of  "How  do  you  do?"  in  other  places.     Not  to  ^ 
bathe  daily  is  to  be  voted  out  of  society. 

The  school-girls  go  to  the  bath  in  merry  parties  at 
day-dawn,  and  frights  they  look  in  their  awkward,  loose  i 
bathing  gear.     I  am  told  these  misses  swim  like  ducks,  | 
and  have  been  out  as  far  as  a  buoy  in  the  channel,  a  | 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.''  499 

quarter  of  a  mile  beyond  the  bath  house.  But  this  is 
now  forbidden,  as  a  young  lady  from  Mobile,  last  summer, 
being  too  venturesome,  and  not  yet  as  skillful  a  swimmer 
as  her  companions,  in  following  them  out  became  wearied 
and  sank.  Two  of  her  companions,  both  a  year  younger 
than  herself,  but  good  swimmers,  bravely  dove  down  and 
brought  her  to  the  surface,  and  sustained  her  until  they 
regained  footing. 

It  must  be  laborious  swimming  in  those  heavy  saturated 
robes  which  the  bathers  wear.  I  never  had  courage  to 
go  beyond  the  latticed  fence  of  the  bath  house;  and 
then  I  am  afraid  that  some  ugly  fish,  crab,  or  "fiddler" 
will  bite  my  feet !  Yet  bathing  is  a  luxury ;  and  some 
of  the  citizens  bathe  before  every  meal,  all  summer 
long. 

We  remain  here  a  week  longer,  and  then  proceed  to 
Mobile  on  our  way  north  to  pass  the  summer. 

Yours  truly, 

ELiTE. 


500  THE   SUNNY  SOUTH;   OR, 


LETTER   LXVI. 

Mobile,  Alabama,  1855. 


My  Dear  Mr. : 

This  lovely  Southern  metropolis  has  been  our  sojourn 
for  a  week  past,  and  has  presented  so  many  attractions 
both  to  me  and  my  husband,  that,  -were  we  not  desirous 
of  being  in  New  York  early  in  June,  we  should  yield  to 
the  solicitation  of  many  kind  friends  and  our  own  wishes, 
and  enjoy  its  refined  hospitality  for  some  days  longer. 

The  Mobileans  are  genuine  Southerners  by  birth  and 
feeling ;  that  is,  this  city  is  not  made  up,  like  New  Orleans, 
of  strangers,  but  mainly  of  those  who  are  "to  the  manor 
born."  It  reminds  me  more  of  Charleston,  South 
Carolina,  m  this  respect;  and  gives,  like  that  elegant 
city,  a  true  representation  of  Southern  manners. 

We  left  the  delightful  watering  place.  Pass  Christian, 
and  by  a  reverse  course  towards  New  Orleans  met  and 
boarded  another  steamer,  the  Oregon,  at  the  Lake  wharf, 
and  so  came  hither,  running  across  the  lakes  by  moon 
and  star-light.  We  passed  late  at  night  Round  Island, 
celebrated  as  the  rendezvous  of  the  Filibusteros  three 
years  ago.  It  now  lay  huge  and  black  upon  the  horizon, 
a  league  oflf,  looking  like  Behemoth  asleep.  Around  us 
gleamed  three  or  four  light-houses,  penciling  the  water's 
rippling  face  with  slender  lines  of  golden  threads.  Over 
us  glittered  the  thousand  worlds  of  glory,  which  we  call 
stars.     In  the  west,  Orion  had  just  sheathed  in  the  wave 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  501 

his  bright,  star-gemmed  sword.  The  moon  walked  in 
brightness  high  above  the  horizon,  and  seemed  to  glory- 
in  her  beauty  and  purity. 

My  husband  and  I  walked  the  deck  till  late,  enjoying 
the  sea-wind,  for  one  never  takes  cold  at  sea.  Such  a  fresh 
breeze  on  land  would  have  chilled  me  to  the  heart.  But 
bonnetless  and  shawUess,  I  continued  on  deck  till  mid- 
night. As  we  were  about  to  go  to  our  room,  a  dark 
object,  over  which  seemed  to  hover  a  cloud  of  snow,  was 
visible  ahead.  As  we  came  nearer,  I  made  out  the  shape 
of  a  schooner,  her  white  sails  shining  in  the  moon,  while 
her  black  hull  was  in  shadow. 

"  Helm-a-port !"  was  the  quick  order  from  some  one 
on  deck. 

The  steamer  abruptly  changed  her  straightforward 
course,  and  steered  round  the  vessel,  but  so  near  as  to 
create  no  little  commotion  on  board  of  her.  We  passed 
so  near  that  I  could  have  tossed  my  fan  upon  her  quarter 
deck,  where  stood  a  man  with  a  pipe,  uttering  strange 
oaths,  instead  of  blessings  at  his  escape.  In  a  few 
minutes,  the  little  vessel  was  mingling  with  the  ob- 
scurity of  night  in  the  distance,  and  soon  disappeared 
altogether. 

At  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  I  was  aroused  by  per- 
sons talking  on  the  "guard,"  near  our  window;  and  on 
looking  out  found  we  were  moving  through  a  narrow 
pass,  and  close  to  us  was  a  dwelling  house,  built  on  a 
small  island  of  sand.  The  cocks  were  crowing,  (among 
them  a  horrid,  hoarse,  bellowing  Shanghai,)  dogs  barking, 
men  shouting,  and  the  water  dashing  and  splashing  against 
the  little  island  as  we  slowly  shoved  our  way  through. 
The  chambermaid  told  me  that  this  pictm-esque  place,  this 


60i2  THE  SUNNY   SOUTH  ;   OR, 

"  Half-way  House,"  in  the  Gulf,  was  called  "  Grass 
Patch."  I  wondered  at  the  appellation,  since  blade  of 
grass  on  this  sand-bank  there  was  not  one !  But  the 
captain  the  next  morning  enlightened  us,  by  calling  it 
"  Grant's  Pass,"  so  named  from  the  proprietor.  We  had 
a  pleasant  laugh,  of  course,  at  the  transmogrification  of 
the  name  in  the  mouth  of  our  kind  and  very  civil  cham- 
bermaid. 

Just  at  sunrise  we  came  in  sight  of  the  shipping  in 
the  "  Lower  bay" — for  you  must  know  that  Mobile  city  is 
thirty-five  miles  up  from  the  Gulf,  on  a  narrow  "  Dela- 
ware-sort-of-a-bay"  of  its  own.  This  bay  being  too 
shallow  for  large  cotton  ships,  they  anchor  below  here  in 
the  "Roads,"  and  their  freight  is  brought  down  to  them 
in  tug  steamers,  or  Bay  boats.  This  fleet  consisted  of 
nearly  a  hundred  ships  and  barks,  and  had  a  fine  ap- 
pearance, extending  for  a  mile  or  two  in  length.  To  and 
from  its  anchorage  plied  the  smoking  Bay  steamers,  and 
among  them  sailed  a  graceful  cutter,  the  vigilant  watcher 
of  the  coast.  We  subsequently  met  the  captain  of  the 
latter,  Douglas  Ottinger,  in  the  city,  where  his  charming 
family  reside.  He  is  a  remarkably  "fine  appearance 
of  a  man,"  and  an  accomplished  gentleman  and  sailor. 
He  is  well  known  to  the  world  by  his  humane  invention 
of  the  Life  Car,  commonly  called  "  Francis's,"  which  has 
saved  so  many  hundreds  of  the  lives  of  the  shipwrecked. 
To  have  invented  and  left  this  "  car  of  life"  to  the  world 
is  honor  enough  for  any  man  to  achieve.  Francis  was 
only  its  builder.  It  should  be  called  "The  Ottinger 
Car ;"  for  Congress  has  formally  recognized  his  right  as 
inventor. 

Our  trip  up  the  Bay  of  Mobile  was  truly  delightful. 


i 


THE   SOUTHERNER  AT   HOME.  608 

The  morning  was  cloudless,  the  wind  cool  from  the  south, 
the  shores  green,  and  dotted  here  and  there  with  villas ; 
the  water  lively  with  vessels  of  all  kinds,  moving  on 
every  possible  course,  and  our  steamer  fleet,  and  passing 
everything  with  a  sort  of  quiet  indifference,  that  made 
us  feel  like  conquerors. 

These  lake  boats  from  Mobile  to  New  Orleans  are  su- 
perior to  any  I  have  sailed  on,  either  in  Europe  or  this 
country.  The  two  I  have  been  on,  the  Cuba  and  Oregon, 
are  elegant  and  commodious,  with  attentive  servants, 
"excellently  good  living,"  that  would  gratify  Mons. 
Ude.  The  captain's  civil  courtesy  to  us  all  most  favora- 
bly impressed  me,  and  led  me  to  reflect  how  little  civility, 
and  smiles,  and  courtesy  cost,  and  how  long  they  remain 
upon  the  memory,  and  make  a  boat  popular ;  while  the 
absence  of  these  has  a  contrary  effect. 

The  captain  is  a  Maine  man — one  of  those  enterpris- 
ing Portland  seamen  who  have  carried  the  star-spangled 
banner  into  the  farthest  corners  of  the  globe.  His  fine 
face,  his  respectable  gray  hairs,  and  affable  manner,  pre- 
sented as  fine  a  portrait  of  an  experienced  captain  (sailor 
and  gentleman  in  one)  as  we  ever  encounter. 

After  breakfast  we  came  in  sight  of  Mobile.  The 
captain,  as  we  sailed  up,  was  kind  enough  to  point  out 
to  my  husband  the  several  watering  places  in  the  shores, 
such  as  "  Point  Clear,"  the  Cape  May  of  the  South ; 
kept  by  Chamberlain,  formerly  of  the  Revere  House, 
Boston,  and  a  resort  of  the  elite  of  Mobile  ;  Hollywood, 
a  charming  looking  retreat,  crowded  in  summer ;  besides 
others  equally  beautiful.  I  marvel,  with  such  delightful 
retreats  so  near  their  city,  that  the  Mobileans  should 
ever  go  North !     It  is  an  homage  the  South  pays  the 


504  THE  SUNNY  south;  or, 

North  uselessly ;  and  this  year  few  will  proceed  North, 
I  am  told,  as  hard  times  have  rendered  Lilliputian  purses 
indispensable,  jingling  with  gold  dollars  instead  of  eagles. 

The  appearance  of  Mobile  from  the  steamer  did  not 
strike  me  as  interesting.  Its  approach  is  disfigured  by 
marshy  land,  covered  with  old  logs,  and  the  forests  crowd 
close  upon  the  city.  But,  as  we  drew  nearer,  the  towers 
and  spires  had  a  pretty  effect ;  though  the  outward  as- 
pect of  the  city,  from  its  level  site,  is  far  from  giving  a 
stranger  a  just  idea  of  its  real  elegance  and  many  at- 
tractions. There  was  a  good  display  of  shipping  at  the 
wharves,  vessels  of  light  draughts,  and  a  fine  view  of 
steamers,  taking  in  and  discharging  cotton,  the  great 
staple — the  mighty  pivot  upon  which  the  business  of  this 
city  of  30,000  inhabitants  revolves. 

"We  took  lodgings  at  the  Battle  House,  which  a  week's 
experience  assures  me  equals  the  favorite  "New  York" 
or  the  Revere  House.  In  a  word,  it  is  a  first  rank 
American  hotel.  The  only  drawback  is  Irish  servants. 
I  can  never  understand  them,  nor  they  me,  and  this  ir- 
ritates their  natural  quickn^g^s,  and  they  sometimes  become 
exceedingly  disagreeable.  (  Southerners  do  not  know  ex- 
actly how  to  address  servants  of  their  own  color ;  and 
being  unaccustomed  to  them,  prefer  hotels  where  they 
are  not.  But  here  they  are  better  drilled  and  more  civil 
than  I  ever  knew  them  to  be.  The  price  of  the  hire  of 
colored  servants  here  is  so  great  that,  probably,  white 
servants  are  employed  from  motives  of  economy.  The 
proprietors  have  been  very  assiduous  and  polite  to  make 
us  comfortable,  and  we  feel  as  much  at  home  as  if  we 
were  prince  and  princess  in  our  own  palace^ 

For  the  present,  au  revoir. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  50ft 


LETTER   LXVII. 

My  Dear  Mr.  : 

There  is  an  indescribable  softness  in  this  Southern  t 
clime,  a  delicious  indolence  in  its  atmosphere,  that,  with 
as  bright  suns  and  as  soft  zephyrs,  are  unknown  in  the 
North.     This  dreamy  air  indisposes  one  to  exertion ;  and 
even  to  dress  for  dinner  is  an  heroic  effort. 

A  dozen  times  I  have  approached  my  escritoire,  and 
taken  up  my  pen,  to  lay  it  down  again,  as  if  it  were  too 
heavy  for  my  fingers.  When  I  do  not  go  to  my  desk,  I 
sit  and  look  at  my  paper  and  pen,  that  await  me,  and 
reproach  my  idleness.  It  is  so  difficult  to  overcome  this 
inertia.  If  I  could  only  muster  resolution  of  mind  enough 
to  make  a  beginning,  I  could  go  on  very  nicely  to  the 
end;  but  the  first  word — the  breaking  of  the  ice — hie 
labor  est. 

I  put  this  Latin  in  on  purpose  to  take  the  occasion  to 
it  form  you  that  in  my  last  but  one' "Needle,"  you  printed 
t\  e  inscription  over  the  church  door  in  Pass  Christian, 
all  wrong,  and  make  me  (if  I  am  a  lady)  responsible  for 
the  barbarous  word  which  your  printer  substituted  for 
what  I  wrote.  Perhaps  the  mischievous  urchin  thought 
any  thing  would  do  for  lady's  Latin.  Please  let  your 
readers  know  that  the  word  should  read. 


506  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OB, 

"DOCTORI    GENTIUM;" 

The  word  printed  in  place  of  the  last  may  be  Jap- 
anese, but  it  is  not  Latin — even  feminine  Latin. 

We  leave  here  to-morrow  en  route  to  Montgomery,  the 
elegant  capital  of  Alabama.  This  city  has  been  less  de- 
scribed than  any  Southern  one,  yet  possesses  attractions 
few  possess.  I  am  delighted  with  the  society  of  Mobile. 
The  refined  hospitality  and  cordial  attention  my  husband 
and  myself  have  received  from  its  citizens  have  quite  won 
our  hearts.  Mobile  is  peculiar  as  being  a  truly  Southern 
city,  its  principal  families  being  born  here;  and,  also,  for 
being  a  strictly  commercial  metropolis.  The  "aristo- 
cracy" here,  as  this  word  goes,  consists  of  its  merchant 
princes  and  their  families.  The  merchant  here  is  "  a 
lord."  The  superb  villas,  the  palatial  mansions  lining 
its  noble  streets,  the  elegant  country  seats  that  adorn 
the  suburbs,  are  occupied  almost  exclusively  by  mer- 
chants. 

*  In  other  Southern  cities  reside  many  opulent  planters, 
whose  estates  lie  in  the  interior.  These  gentlemen 
usually  give  the  tone  and  take  the  lead  of  society  in  such 
cases;  and  this  is  particularly  so  in  Charleston  and 
Savannah.  But  the  principal  pursuit  here  being  com- 
merce, like  the  merchants  of  Genoa,  the  commercial  men 
of  Mobile  are  the  princes  of  the  social  empire.  You  will, 
of  course  expect  to  find  among  them  intelligence,  educa- 
tion, refinement  of  manners,  and  all  the  social  savoir  faire 
of  the  higher  order  of  American  society.  You  will  not 
be  disappointed. 

^.  We  have  found  the  Mobileans  among  the  most  elegant 
people  we  have  ever  associated  with.     Many  families  it 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  60T 

is  my  happiness  to  know  are  not  surpassed  in  high- 
breeding  and  truly  elevated  character  by  the  best  class 
of  English  society ;  and  this  is  saying  a  great  deal ;  for  I 
look  upon  the  hest  society  in  England  as  the  best  in  the 
■world. 

The  medical  profession  and  the  bar  and  the  pulpit 
have  also  prominent  men,  and  exert  their  influence ;  but 
these  members  combined  are  a  fraction  compared  with 
the  mercantile  gentlemen  who,  of  course,  give  tone  to, 
and  lead  society. 

The  maritime  position  of  Mobile,  with  one  foot  upon 
the  Gulf,  and  one  hand  grasping  a  quiver  of  rivers — the 
Alabama,  Bigbee,  Warrior,  and  lesser  ones — determines 
its  commercial  character.  These  rivers  flow  for  hundreds 
of  miles,  through  the  richest  cotton  region  of  the  South, 
and  bear  annually  to  the  quay  of  the  city,  cotton  from 
five  to  six  millions  of  dollars  in  value;  while  half  that 
sum  in  amount  is  returned  by  her  merchants  in  supplies 
to  the  planters  and  towns  along  their  banks.  In  the 
bay,  a  fleet  of  from  sixty  to  a  hundred  cotton  ships 
carrying  the  flags  of  Great  Britain,  Bremen,  France, 
Sweden,  Denmark,  await  to  take  on  board  this  vast 
amount  of  cotton,  and  convey  it  to  the  ports  of  their  re- 
spective nations. 

Cotton  is,  therefore,  the  circulating  blood  that  gives 
life  to  the  city.  All  its  citizens  are  interested  in  this 
staple,  from  the  princely  merchant,  to  whom  the  globe 
with  its  ports  is  a  chessboard  on  which  he  is  ever  making 
his  intelligent  moves,  to  the  poor  cobbler,  whose  round 
lapstone  is  Ids  world.  A  failure  in  a  crop  of  cotton, 
would  cast  a  cloud  over  every  brow  in  this  city ;  for  the 
great  cotton  merchant,  lacking  his  princely  gains,  could 


508  THE    SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

iinot  build,  nor  employ,  nor  pay ;  for  the  merchant  is  the 
fountain  of  money — the  source  of  dollars  and  cents, 
that  flow  down  from  the  stream  of  his  own  prosperity 
through  all  the  lesser  channels,  as  a  reservoir  upon  an 
elevation  communicates  its  fulness  to  a  hundred  pipes, 
and  these  to  a  thousand  lesser  ones,  till,  at  the  farthest 
extremity,  the  slave  at  the  hydrant  fills  his  gourd  and 
quenches  his  thirst.  The  merchants  are  the  reservoirs, 
and  if  they  are  not  full,  all  suffer  below  them. 

There  is  one  of  the  finest  streets  I  have  ever  seen 
which  intersects  this  city  for  two  miles.  It  is  a  broad, 
smooth,  almost  imperial  avenue,  lined  chiefly  by  the 
abodes  of  the  "merchant  nobles."  In  one  of  these  re- 
sides Madame  Le  Yert.  At  present  she  is  making  the 
tour  of  Southern  Europe,  and  will  visit  Constantinople, 
and,  perhaps,  "look  in"  upon  the  Crimea  ere  she  re- 
turns. This  lady  is  the  daughter  of  a  former  governor 
of  Florida,  and  was  celebrated  as  Miss  Octavia  Walton, 
before  her  marriage  with  Dr.  Le  Vert,  an  eminent  phy- 
sician of  this  city,  for  her  rare  beauty  of  mind  and 
person.  Without  question,  she  is  one  of  the  most  ac- 
complished women  of  America,  with  powers  of  pleasing 
and  winning  hearts  and  captivating  all  who  know  her, 
that  is  rarely  possessed.  Lady  Blessington  was  emi- 
nently gifted  in  this  way,  and  Madame  Le  Vert  is 
scarcely  less  wonderfully  endowed,  if  the  half  I  hear  of 
her  be  true ;  but,  perhaps,  I  ought  not  to  compare  with 
such  a  person  as  the  Countess  of  Blessington — knowing 
her  life  as  we  do— ra  pure  and  elevated  character  like 
Madame  Le  Vert.  It  is  only  in  their  personal  fascina- 
tions and  varied  accomplishments,  that  their  names 
should  be  placed  on  the  same  page.     Here  Madame  Le 


THE    SOUTHERNER    AT    HOME.  509 

Vert  seems  trulj  to  be  idolized.  This  is  her  home,  and 
all  know  her  and  speak  of  her  in  the  most  enthusiastic 
and  affectionate  manner.  Even  the  ladies  seem  to  be 
whollj  without  envy  when  they  mention  her,  and  cheer- 
fully accord  to  her  the  high  social  position  she  holds. 
The  Mobile  gentlemen  all  seem  to  speak  of  her  with 
pride,  and  a  feeling  of  personal  regard,  that  I  was  de- 
lighted to  witness.  Truly  she  must  be  a  happy  woman 
who  thus  wins  all  hearts,  disarms  envy  by  her  sweetness 
of  disposition,  and  commands  homage  by  her  talents.  A 
French  gentleman,  speaking  to  me  of  her,  said,  with 
rapture : — 

"  She  can  speak  five  languages  well,  and  I  have  seen 
her  converse  at  the  same  time  with  a  Spanish,  German, 
and  French  gentleman,  around  her,  answering,  question- 
ing, and  holding  lively  conversation  with  each  in  his  own 
tongue,  and  with  a  precision  of  pronunciation  and  ele- 
gance of  phraseology  remarkable." 

To  the  poor,  I  am  told,  she  is  very  kind ;  and  stops  in 
the  street  to  speak  with  the  humblest  widow,  and  affec- 
tionately inquire  after  her  needs.  To  end  my  account 
of  her,  I  will  say  that  of  fifty  people  I  have  heard  speak 
of  Madame  Le  Vert,  I  heard  not  one  syllable  of  envy,  or 
one  word  unkind.  She  seems  to  have  the  art  of  making 
every  body  love  her.  Every  body  regretted  we  could 
not  see  her ;  for,  not  to  see  Madame  Le  Vert,  they  seemed 
to  feel  was  not  seeing  Mobile.  I  am  told  that  an  amus- 
ing incident  occurred  here,  of  which  the  heroine  was  a 
very  accomplished  person,  who  came  here,  representing 
herself  as  an  English  lady  of  high  rank,  with  letters  of 
introduction  to  Madame  Le  Vert,  from  some  of  her 
noble  friends  in  England.     The  "  lady"  played  her  card 


510  THE  SUNNY  south;  or, 

well  for  a  few  days,  fairly  imposing  upon  the  hospitable 
frankness  of  this  Southern  people,  (who  are  the  most  de- 
ficient in  suspicion  of  any  people  in  the  world,)  and  re- 
ceiving no  little  attention.  But  detected  in  some  pecu- 
lation of  jewelry  from  a  fashionable  jeweler's,  and  bor- 
rowing money  from  half  a  dozen  gentlemen  and  ladies, 
her  true  character  was  speedily  developed,  and  leaving 
behind  several  fashionable  calls  unreturned,  she  suddenly 
disappeared  on  board  of  a  vessel  bound  to  New  York. 
She  was  highly  accomplished,  played  wonderfully  on  the 
piano,  sang  like  Sontag,  and  danced  in  the  extreme  of 
fashion.  She  said  she  knew  Lamartine,  Dickens,  Bul- 
wer,  D'Israeli — every  great  personage ;  passed  a  week 
at  Idlewild  with  Mr.  Willis  ;  three  weeks  at  the  house  of 
the  millionaire,  George  Law,  as  his  guest ; — indeed,  she 
was  traveling  through  the  United  States  with  the  inten- 
tion of  writing  an  impartial  book,  which  would  correct 
the  erroneous  impressions  her  friends,  "  the  nobility  in 
England"  held  towards  this  wonderful  empire. 

Her  letters  of  introduction  proved  to  be  forged,  as 
was  apparent,  I  was  told,  on  comparing  her  handwriting 
proper  with  these  epistles.  How  degrading  to  our  sex 
to  see  a  woman,  evidently  highly  educated,  and  capable 
of  conferring  honor  upon  it,  descend  so  low  as  to  go  from 
one  fashionable  hotel  to  another  through  the  land  as  a 
swindler — a  chevaliere  d' Industrie!  This  woman,  who 
was  about  thirty-five,  spoke  French  fluently,  and  played 
so  well,  that  Gottschalk,  who  was,  at  the  time,  in  the 
same  hotel,  hearing  her  in  the  drawing-room,  pronounced 
her  performance  on  the  piano  superior  to  any  woman's  he 
ever  heard !  With  such  talents,  which,  rightly  used, 
would  command  an  independent  income,  how  can  a  woman 


THE    SOUTHERNER    AT    HOME.  611 

thus  deceive  and  wickedly  act  ?  for  I  have  always  asso- 
ciated with  education  and  talents  at  least  the  feelings  and 
character  of  a  true  lady. 

Doubtless  this  "Countess"  Madame  Whyte*  will  yet 
be  heard  of  in  New  York,  where  "distinguished  for- 
eigners" are  sought  after  with  a  perseverance  and 
homage  quite  in  antagonism  with  the  genius  of  republi- 
cans. 

The  environs  of  Mobile  are  charming.  Some  of  the 
roads  for  a  league  west  are  lined  with  country  houses 
adorned  with  parterres;  and  few  houses  are  without  the 
greatest  variety  of  shade  trees.  Orange  trees  abound; 
but  the  live  oak  everywhere  rears  its  majestic  Alp  of 
foliage,  casting  beneath  shade  broad  enough  to  shelter 
from  the  sun  a  herd  of  cattle.  This  tree  is  always  "  a 
picture"  in  the  scenery — a  study  for  the  artist.  It  com- 
bines the  grandeur  of  the  English  oak  with  the  grace  of 
the  American  elm.  There  are  superb  groups  of  them  in 
and  about  this  city.  They  shade  the  lawns  and  give 
dignity  to  the  mansions  that  lift  their  roofs  above  them. 

The  drives  to  Spring  Hill  and  the  Bay  Road  are  the 
favorite  avenues  of  the  Mobileans.  The  former  leads  to 
a  fine  elevation,  two  leagues  from  the  city,  and  com- 
manding a  view  of  it  and  of  the  beautiful  bay.  It  is 
covered  with  the  suburban  retreats  of  the  Mobile  mer- 
chants, whose  families  generally  retire  here  for  the 
summer,  if  a  northern  tour  does  not  tempt  them.  The 
Bay  Road  is  a  delightful  drive  for  four  miles,  with  the 
open  bay  on  one  side  and  villas  and  woodlands  on  the 
other.  We  enjoyed  both  of  these  drives  very  much. 
We  constantly  met  or  passed  carriages,  containing  ladies 
*  Subsequently  appeared  as  the  Authoress  of  John  Halifax.   Ed. 


512  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

•without  bonnets,  and  also  saw  a  great  number  of  eques- 
trians ;  for  Southerners  are  more  fond  of  the  saddle  than 
a  seat  in  a  carriage.  The  beauty  of  the  ladies  is  shown 
to  best  advantage  on  an  evening  drive;  and  I  must  say, 
that  I  have  never  seen  so  much  true  "Southern"  loveli- 
ness, of  the  sunny  dark  eye,  oval  face,  golden  brown 
hair,  and  indescribably  rich  complexion,  (rich  without 
color,)  as  here. 

V  This  city  is  deservedly  celebrated  for  its  beautiful 
women,  and  especially  the  beauty  of  its  girls  under  six- 
teen. The  men  have  made  a  favorable  impression  upon 
me  for  intelligence  and  frank  manner;  and  they  dress 
well,  especially  the  middle-aged  citizens — even  better 
than  the  young  men.  The  ladies  dress  with  the  most 
lavish  expense,  and  yet  with  taste,  never  following  a 
fashion  to  its  excess,  but  stopping  within  it;  and  this 
good  sense  and  taste  is  a  fine  trait  in  Southern  women. 
Many  Northern  ladies  are  apt  to  keep  by  the  side  of 
Fashion,  if  not  to  get  a  step  ahead  of  her.  Wealth 
without  refinement  always  dresses  as  far  as  Fashion 
dresses  her  lay-figure ;  but  refined  wealth  stops  this  side 
of  the  extreme. 

I  shall  write  one  more  letter  from  this  charming  city 
and  then  we  proceed  northward. 

Kate. 


THE  SOUTHERNER  AT   HOME.  613 


LETTER    LXVIII. 

An  Inn  in  Virginia,  June,  1855. 


My  Dear  Mr. : 

This  is  "written  in  an  old  fashioned  country  Inn,  in 
the  heart  of  the  Old  Dominion,  where  we  are  sojourning 
for  a  week.  It  is  now  ten  days  since  we  left  the  plea- 
sant city  of  Mobile,  which  I  shall  always  embalm  in  my 
memory  with  the  sweetest  spices  of  affection,  for  the 
kindness  I  received  there  from  so  many  dear  friends. 
If  I  were  disposed  to  be  personal,  I  could  make  my  letter 
brilliant  with  the  names  of  those  esteemed  people  who 
extended  towards  me  the  hospitable  courtesies  and  grace- 
ful amenities  of  which  I  was  the  unworthy  object.  My 
husband  is  charmed  with  the  place,  and  has  half  a  mind 
to  live  there  during  the  winters,  which  I  am  told  are  de- 
lightful. In  Mobile  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the 
celebrated  Dr.  Nott,  who,  in  conjunction  with  Mr.  Cairo 
Gliddon,  has  published  a  work  to  show  that  the  arithmetic 
of  Moses  was  not  creditable  for  a  school  boy.  I  hear 
that  the  work  has  not  overthrown  the  Bible,  although 
bigger  than  the  Bible,  and  written  almost  by  as  many 
men.  It  overshot  itself,  and  from  its  very  bulk  and  cost 
will  never  be  read,  except  by  students — and  what  book 
ever  convinced  a  student?  Learned  men  read  books 
only  to  be  confirmed  in  what  they  previously  believed 

they  knew. 
33 


M4  THE   SUNNY  SOUTH;   OR, 

Dr.  Nott  very  justly,  for  he  is  by  no  means  an  infidel, 
repudiates  the  infidel  portions  of  this  book  ("  Types  of 
Mankind");  and  says  he  is  responsible  only  for  the 
scientifically  anatomical  and  physiological  contributions, 
and  complains  that  his  confrere,  Gliddon,  surreptitiously 
inserted,  after  the  MS.  had  left  his  hands,  into  the  body 
of  the  -work  his  own  sceptical  theories.  But  Dr.  Nott, 
like  all  persons  found  in  suspicious  company,  unfortu- 
nately has  to  sufier  for  his  companionship.  He  is  at  the 
head  of  the  medical  profession  here ;  a  South  Carolinian, 
a  man  of  fine  intellect,  agreeable  manners,  and  with  the 
finished  air  of  a  thorough-bred  and  born  gentleman. 
I  liked  him  very  much  the  few  moments  I  was  in  his 
society. 

We  left  Mobile  for  Montgomery  at  the  close  of  a 
lovely  day,  and  in  forty-six  hours,  after  a  pleasant  sail 
up  the  romantic  Alabama  river,  reached  the  stately  capi- 
tal of  Alabama,  Montgomery.  It  reminds  me  somewhat 
of  Albany,  in  its  location  and  elevated  aspect.  On 
board  the  boat  was  the  venerable  Bishop  Cobbs,  a  large, 
heavy  man,  and  advanced  in  years,  but  with  a  face  full 
of  the  spirit  of  benevolence.  He  has  all  the  simplicity 
of  a  pure  child,  united  with  the  dignity  of  a  Christian 
minister.  He  resides  in  this  city,  and  was  on  his  return 
to  his  family,  from  whom  he  had  been  some  time  absent, 
on  his  apostolic  mission  of  "confirming  the  churches." 

After  a  day  agreeably  spent  in  Montgomery,  we  took 
the  cars  for  Augusta,  Georgia.  Our  ride  was  full  of  in- 
terest. I  was  annoyed,  the  first  hour  or  two  after  starting, 
at  having  left  hanging  on  a  projection  of  the  toilet  stand, 
in  our  room  at  the  hotel,  a  valuable  ring,  which  encircled 
many  dearest  associations  within  its  golden  periphery. 


THE   SOUTHERNER  AT   HOME.  515 

My  husband  made  the  fact  known  to  the  conductor,  who 
pledged  himself  that,  on  his  return  to  Montgomery,  in 
the  next  train,  he  would  go  to  the  hotel  and  get  it,  and 
forward  it  to  Washington  city  by  mail.  As  he  would  be 
back  to  the  hotel  in  three  or  four  hours,  I  consoled  my- 
self with  all  that  was  left  me,  hope,  and  now  hope  to  find 
it  in  Washington,  when  we  reach  there,  on  Monday ! 
But  I  mistrust  my  hopes ;  and  that  the  large  eyes  of  the 
Ethiopian  maid,  who  waited  on  me,  have  discovered  the 
jewel,  tJni  that  it  last  Sunday  dazzled  the  eyes  and  won 
the  heart  of  some  sable  Caesar  or  Pompey !  What  is 
forgotten  at  hotels  falls  natural  prizes  into  the  hands  of 
the  chambermaids,  who  begin  their  foray  of  discovery 
about  the  room  before  the  lady  has  reached  the  last  stair 
in  her  descent  to  the  coach. 

It  is  so  provoking  to  leave  (and,  of  course,  lose)  things 
traveling.  I  never  yet  took  a  journey  without  such  a 
misfortune.  It  was  either  a  book  half  read,  and  I  dying 
with  interest  to  finish  it — or  a  parasol,  or  a  reticule,  or 
a  glove,  (and  one  can't  easily  replace  gloves,  traveling,) 
or  a  veil,  or  a  ring  !  If  all  ladies  leave  and  lose  in  the 
same  way,  lynx-eyed  chambermaids  in  some  hotels  on 
the  great  routes  of  travel  can,  in  a  year,  obtain  stock 
enough  to  set  up  a  magazin  des  varieties.  I  half-suspect 
the  minxes  of  misplacing,  in  order  that  travelers  may 
not  see  and  so  forget ;  but  yet  so  misplace,  that  if  they 
are  searched  or  asked  for,  they  may  easily  be  found,  and 
all  seem  to  be  "accidental." 

My  husband  quietly  says  : 

"  Kate,  it  is  your  fault !  You  are  careless,  and  don't 
take  proper  care,  I  fear,  of  your  things.  Literary  peo- 
ple are  proverbially  indifferent  [a  great  scandal]  about 


616  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

mundane  matters.  If  you  don't  forget  and  lose  Harry 
on  the  way  I  shall  be  content.  It  would  not  be  so  easy 
to  have  him  mailed  on  to  Washington  as  your  ring,  and, 
touching  said  ring,  wife,  I  am  very  well  satisfied  you 
will  never  see  it  again." 

"But  the  conductor  pledged  his  word — and  was  so  de- 
sirous of  serving  me !" 

"  He  may  do  his  duty!  but  the  landlord  may  not  take 
the  trouble  to  go  to  the  room  for  it.  You  know  some 
landlords  care  little  about  guests  a  hundred  miles  away 
on  a  railroad.  If  he  ask  the  servant,  she  will  simply 
say,  'Lor',  massa,  I  neber  seed  no  ring  in  de  room!' 
and  so  the  matter  will  end !" 

"I  hope  it  will  be  found!"  I  said,  quite  hopelessly; 
and  I  yet  hope  it  will,  for  it  was  the  first  ring  given  to 
me  by  my  husband ;  and  a  woman  values  that  gift  above 
all  others. 

The  scenery  increased  in  beauty  as  we  flew  on,  and  I 
soon  forgot  my  loss.  As  we  entered  Georgia,  we  saw 
finer  towns,  richer  agricultural  districts,  and  more 
mountainous  scenery.  We  passed  one  mountain,  like  a 
mighty  pyramid,  lifting  its  great  head  more  than  a  thou- 
sand feet  above  the  level  country,  and  visible  for  hours 
before  and  after  we  passed  it.  The  city  of  Augusta  is 
a  handsome  metropolis,  with  broad  streets,  a  beautiful 
river  (the  Savannah),  fine  churches,  but  hotels  indiffer- 
ent. Every  city  should  have  a  Tremont  or  Astor.  These 
hotels  have  rendered  their  like,  necessities  everywhere 
else.  Most  of  the  hotels  South,  except  in  the  large 
cities,  are  overgrown  inns  or  large  taverns.  Why,  there 
is  as  much  difference  between  a  "hotel"  and  a  "tavern" 
as  between  a  "yacht"  and  a  "fishing  smack  !" 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  517 

We  were  pleased  with  Augusta,  but  made  but  a  sbort 
stay.  Columbia  is  tbe  paradise  city  of  the  South. 
Here  resides  the  distinguished  novelist  and  poet,  W. 
Gilmore  Simms,  to  whom  we  had  letters,  but  unfortu- 
nately he  was  absent.  We  regretted  we  could  not  pay 
our  respects  to  a  man  of  genius,  who  has  conferred  such 
distinction  on  the  literature  of  the  South,  and  of  the 
whole  Republic.  One  has  to  unpack  and  repack  to 
stay  in  a  place  two  or  three  days,  and  it  is  so  much 
trouble  to  "dress"  for  a  day's  sojourn,  that  one  often 
hurries  forward,  where  it  would  be  agreeable  to  linger 
for  a  few  days,  as  it  would  have  been  here.  On 
our  way  from  Augusta  we  delayed  a  day  to  visit  a 
friend's  rice  plantation,  and  thence  took  the  cars  to 
Charleston. 

This  is  a  city  Southerners  are  very  proud  of,  and  with 
good  cause.  But  it  is  the  people  more  than  the  houses 
and  "scenery"  that  makes  Charleston  so  agreeable  to 
strangers.  The  Battery  is  a  charming  promenade,  but 
there  are  few  handsome  streets. 

The  residences  have  a  respectable,  substantial,  home- 
like air  about  them,  and  universally  are  buried  in  the 
shade  of  tropical  trees.  The  finest  building  is  the 
Military  Academy,  erected  for  training  South  Carolina 
youth  to  the  chivalrous  accomplishment  of  arms.  "Nul- 
lification" is  a  word  fast  growing  into  disuse,  as  it 
has  ceased  to  have  meaning.  This  State  is  as  true  to 
the  Confederacy  as  the  brightest  star  in  our  Federal 
standard. 

The  proposed  superb  monument  to  Mr.  Calhoun  (the 
Demosthenes  of  the  New  World)  is  not  yet  erected! 
Much  as  cotemporaries  admire  a  mighty  genius  rising 


618  THE    SUNNY   SOUTH:    OR, 

and  culminating  within  their  own  horizon,  they  are  never 
the  people  who  raise  the  noblest  mementoes  to  him !  It 
is  the  succeeding  generation  which  is  the  true  echo  of  a 
great  man's  fame.  Fifty  years  hence,  Webster,  Clay, 
Calhoun,  will  be  more  honored  than  they  now  are,  and 
that  age  will  erect  to  them  the  colossal  plinths  which 
the  men  of  their  own  day  neglect.  Centuries  after  Crom- 
well and  Joan  d'Arc  lived,  even  at  this  day,  magnificent 
statues  are  erected  to  their  fame. 

As  the  glories  that  surround  the  heads  of  the  noble 
Triumviri,  "Calhoun,  Webster,  and  Clay,"  increase  in 
splendor  with  time,  the  higher  and  grander  will  rise  the 
monuments  that  men  will  build  up  of  stone  and  marble, 
to  their  mighty  names !  Whatever  South  Carolina  does 
now  in  honor  of  her  idol,  the  whole  Republic  will  later 
do  more  nobly  as  a  national  tribute  to  his  intellectual 
greatness ;  and  what  our  mighty  Inter-oceanic  Republic 
will  do,  will  later  still  be  done  by  the  whole  civilized 
world!  for  the  glory  of  the  names  of  these  three  men, 
like  those  of  Cicero,  Demosthenes,  and  Caius  Caesar, 
shall  be  claimed  as  the  common  heritage  of  the  round 
earth ;  and  in  Paris,  London,  Naples,  Vienna,  St.  Peters- 
burg, and  Constantinople,  statues  and  monuments  shall 
likewise  be  erected  to  them ;  for  godlike  genius  like  theirs 
has  no  country,  no  other  bounds  than  those  of  the  globe's 
circumference. 

We  left  Charleston  with  regret,  after  a  day's  sojourn, 
and  part  of  which  was  spent  in  a  visit  to  Sullivan's 
Island,  an  hour's  sail  down  the  harbor.  This  is  a 
charming  spot  for  air  and  bathing  and  beach-galloping, 
but  its  "grass"  is  sand.  Several  cultivated  families 
pass  the  summer  here,  and  the  hotel  is  a  fine  structure ; 


THE   SOUTHERNER  AT  HOME.  619 

it  looks  like  a  theatre  turned  inside  out,  witli  the  gal- 
leries running  all  round  its  exterior.  Commander  In- 
graham's  family  reside  here.  I  felt  like  paying  my 
respects  to  a  man  who  has  contributed  abroad  so  much 
honor  to  our  national  name ;  but  I  let  propriety  subdue 
curiosity,  and  only  satisfied  myself  with  passing  his 
house,  hoping  to  get  a  glimpse  of  the  "  great  man  of  his 
day." 

^he  young  and  rich  South  Carolinians  have  a  peculiar  * 
manner.  They  move  about  quietly,  are  self-possessed, 
silent  or  rather  taciturn,  love  to  sit  and  read,  are  well 
educated,  polished  in  behavior,  dress  well,  cultivate  the 
moustache,  affect  small  feet  and  white  hands,  and  are 
somewhat  dilettanti,  but  yet  manly  and  well-informed ; 
are  lovers  of  the  poets,  have  fine  libraries,  faultless 
riding  horses  and  equipage,  wear  wide-awake  hats,  and 
love  indolence  and  ease.  Most  of  them  have  seen 
Europe,  but  prefer  South  Carolina !  They  are  proud  and 
aristocratic,  and  do  not  feel  particularly  honored  to  shake 
hands  with  a  traveling  lord,  and  in  England  are  haughtier 
than  England's  nobles. 

They  are  expert  fencers,  superb  billiard-players, 
splendid  riders  when  their  indolence  will  let  them  put 
their  blooded  horses  to  their  full  flight ;  fond  of  hunting, 
unerring  with  the  rifle,  have  practiced  with  the  duelling 
pistol,  and  have  knowledge  of  military  matters  !  Under 
all  their  calm  and  indolent  exterior,  lies  all  the  fire 
and  energy  of  their  prototype,  Calhoun;  and  to  insult 
them  is  infinitely  perilous,  though  they  never  seek  a 
quarrel.  I  think  they  are  the  most  finished  gentlemen 
(when  they  reach  middle  life)  in  the  worldly   My  husband  - 


520 


TUE   SUNNY   south;    OR, 


says  he  will  write  for  me  (perhaps)  a  description  of  the 
ladies. 

We  leave  this  Inn  direct  for  Washington !     Shall  I 
find  mj  ring  there  ? 

Yours, 
Kate. 


THE   SOUTHERNER   AT   HOME.  621 


LETTEE    LXIX. 

"Washington  Citt. 


I 


My  Dear  Mr. : 

My  last  letter  was  dated  from  "  an  old  Inn"  in  Vir- 
ginia. Since  then  we  have  come  on  to  this  city  of 
"magnificent  edifices;"  for  the  old  "magnificent  dis- 
tances" are  superbly  filled  up  with  noble  buildings. 

I  must  say  a  word  about  that  old  Virginia  Inn.  It 
was  the  most  comfortable  "home,"  not  to  be  in  one's 
own,  I  ever  dwelt  in.  It  stood  in  a  broad,  green  valley, 
many  miles  long,  and  from  the  Inn  the  country  gently 
sloped  to  circumenclosing  hills,  wooded  all  over  with 
massive  masses  of  green  forest.  The  vale  itself  was  a 
valley  of  farms,  large,  and  wealthy-looking,  with  hos- 
pitabl-eappearing  farm-houses  in  the  bosom  of  each,  and 
each  with  its  park  of  woodland ;  and  the  stage  road  to 
the  Sulphur  Springs,  (the  "  Saratoga"  of  southern  aris- 
tocracy) of  a  light  brown  color,  and  smooth  as  a  race 
course,  wound  meanderingly  through  its  bosom. 

The  Inn  stood  in  the  centre  of  this  agricultural  scene. 
It  was  a  large,  rambling,  old  Virginia  mansion  house,  and 
once  belonged  to  a  family  of  the  old  regime,  one  of  the 
proverbial  (and  in  this  case  truly  so)  "  FIRST  FAMI- 
LIES" of  Virginia.  The  original  proprietor  was  a 
cavalier  of  Charles  the  Second,  and  was  a  large  land- 
holder under  the  crown.     But  the  revolution,  which  de- 


622  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH;   OR, 

stroyed  the  stately  law  of  primogeniture,  divided  and 
subdivided  among  half  a  dozen  equal  heirs  his  regal  do- 
mains, until  within  the  present  generation,  the  once  no- 
ble estate,  diminished  to  two  hundred  acres  and  a  hand- 
ful of  slaves,  and  the  lands  worn  out,  came  into  the  hands 
of  the  long  baronial  line  of  the  Bodleys.  The  gentle- 
man inheriting,  finding  his  harvest  would  not  maintain 
the  estate,  and  that  money  must  be  realized  in  some  way 
from  his  patrimony,  had  the  good  sense  (refined  and  edu- 
cated a  Virginian  as  he  is)  to  convert  his  paternal  man- 
sion into  an  "Inn."  Situated  on  the  great  road  of 
travel,  and  ofiering  from  its  imposing  exterior,  (ancient 
yet  respectable,)  temptations  to  the  comfort-loving  traveler, 
it  soon  became  the  aristocratic  resort  of  touring  Virgin- 
ians, and  the  excellent  proprietor  (the  descendant  of  a 
lord  become  a  lundlord)  has  become  independent. 

Happy  would  many  a  Virginia  gentleman  of  the  "first 
families"  be,  if  he  could  turn  his  decaying  mansion  into 
an  Inn  of  profit !  Numerous,  very,  are  the  old  estates 
gone  to  decay,  scattered  over  the  Old  Dominion,  wherein 
genteel  poverty  dwells,  with  the  prideful  recollections  of 
ancestral  name  and  honors.  The  improvident  manner 
in  which  the  old  Virginia  proprietors  wasted  their  lands 
with  the  soil-consuming  tobacco,  has  impoverished  half 
of  their  descendants.  The  present  proprietors,  unable 
to  maintain  their  aristocratic  estate,  part  one  after  an- 
other with  their  family  servants,  whose  price  goes  to 
maintain  what  the  wretched  crops  ought  to  do,  or  they 
leave  their  barren  heritages,  and  with  their  servants  seek 
the  "West  or  South,  and  there  buying  new  land  at  gov- 
ernment price,  build  up  anew,  young  "Virginia  family" 
in  Texas,  Alabama,  or  Mississippi. 


THE    SOUTHERNER  AT   HOME. 

So  necessary  is  the  annual  decimation  of  slaves  by 
sale  to  support  these  old  decayed  families,  that  it  has  be- 
come a  settled  trade  for  men  whose  occupation  is  to  buy 
slaves,  to  travel  through  the  "  Old  Dominion,"  from  es- 
tate to  estate,  to  purchase  the  negroes  that  the  necessi- 
ties of  these  genteel  families  (who  have  nothing  left  of 
their  ancestral  glory,  but  the  old  mansion,  half  in  ruins, 
and  the  wide,  barren  j&elds  scarcely  yielding  bread) 
compel  them  to  dispose  of,  whenever  opportunity  of- 
fers. The  slave-buyer  is  seldom  disappointed,  however 
grand  the  exterior  of  the  baronial  looking  house  to 
which  he  rides  up.  Here  he  gets  one,  there  another, 
and  in  a  few  weeks  he  enters  Lynchburg,  Alexandria,  or 
Richmond  with  a  hundred  or  more,  whom  the  necessities 
of  the  first  families  have  compelled  to  be  sold.  Hun- 
dreds of  such  buyers  are  ever  traversing  the  state,  and 
the  markets  of  the  South  and  West  are  almost  wholly 
supplied  with  slaves,  through  the  res  angusta  domi,  in 
the  Old  Dominion. 

From  this  view  of  the  facts  (and  facts  they  certainly 
are),  it  would  appear  that  Virginia  is  gradually  coming 
to  free  farming  and  the  slow  abandonment  of  slave  cul- 
tivature.  As  it  is,  slaves  are  raised  here  more  as  a 
marhetahle  and  money-returning  commodity  than  for 
their  productive  labor. 

It  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  states  in  the  Union. 
Its  citizens,  with  truth,  boast  a  nobler  ancestry  from 
England's  halls,  than  any  other  !  Its  character  for  in- 
telligence, genius,  hospitality,  and  refinement,  is  not  sur- 
passed anywhere.  A  Virginia  gentleman  (poor,  and 
living  on  starved  lands  though  he  may  be)  is  the  gentle- 
man of  the  age !     Washington,  her  son,  has,  for  ever- 


524  THE    SUNNY   SOUTH;    OR, 

more,  ennobled  lier  as  the  birth-place  of  heroes.  She 
has  given  to  the  Republic  the  majority  of  her  presidents ! 
and  to  the  National  Legislative  halls,  the  noblest  minds 
of  our  race.  The  grand  scenery  of  her  valleys,  moun- 
tains, forests,  and  smiling  fields,  the  diversity  of  her 
climate,  the  noble  character  of  her  citizens,  ought  to 
make  her  "the  Paradise  of  America,"  as  Sir  Walter 
Raleigh  called  it,  and  therefore  named  it,  in  honor  of  his 
worshipful  "Eve,"  (Queen  Bess,)  Virginia! 

Our  Inn  is  worthy  of  having  for  its  host  a  descendant 
of  the  chivalrous  Borderleighs,  (now  modernized  in  spell- 
ing to  Bodleys,)  one  of  the  old  North  of  England  nobles. 
He  loses  none  of  his  Virginia  stateliness  or  self-respect 
in  playing  Boniface.  He  retains  his  self-respect  and  is 
therefore  still  a  gentleman ;  and  we  feel  that  he  is  one. 
His  vast  parlor  is  hung  round  with  old  portraits  of  his 
Virginia  and  British  ancestors.  The  bed-rooms  look  so 
respectable  with  their  black  oak  and  carved  furniture, 
the  panneled  wainscotting,  old-fashioned  testers,  and  oval 
mirrors,  that  one  seems  to  be  carried  back  into  the  days 
of  William  and  Mary.  Some  of  the  furniture  is  two  hun- 
dred years  old,  and  was  brought  over  to  Jamestown  from 
England.  A  beaufet  is  in  the  dining  room,  curiously 
shaped  and  carved,  which  belonged  to  Sir  Walter  Raleigh, 
he  who  sacrificed  a  cloak,  hoping  to  get  a  crown.  Queen 
Bess  was  a  terrible  flirt !  She  had  more  joy  in  tyrann- 
nizing  over  the  noble  hearts  of  the  brave  men  about  her, 
than  in  reigning  over  her  realm  of  England. 

There  is  a  portrait  of  her  all  begrimed  with  smoke,  in 
the  sitting  room,  which  our  courteous  and  high  born  host 
says,  once  belonged  to  the  ancient  Claiborne  or  Clayborn 
family,  a  race  of  statesmen  and  soldiers. 


THE   SOUTHERNER  AT  HOME.  525 

From  the  Inn  one  has  a  delightful  prospect  of  fields, 
■woods,  intervales,  mountains,  and  a  shining  river.  A 
broad  lawn  is  before  the  house,  across  which  is  a  smooth, 
half-moon  shaped  road,  along  which  the  stage-coach 
dashes  up  to  the  door. 

Such  a  table  as  one  has  here !  Never  were  travelers  so 
banqueted.  At  breakfast,  coffee  and  cream  like  liquid 
gold ;  six  kinds  of  bread,  each  hot,  as  bread  always  is  in 
the  South,  and  all  delicious  with  butter  rich  as  honey ; 
amber-colored  honey  also,  with  a  fragrance  as  if  gathered 
from  the  flowers  that  bloom  on  Hymettus !  Then  steaks, 
80  juicy  and  flavorable ;  broiled  chickens  just  delicately 
crisped  and  more  delicately  buttered ;  fresh  fish  from  a 
pond,  nicely  browned  to  a  turn ;  ham  the  tint  of  a  blood 
peach ;  sliced  bread  and  butter,  and  I  know  not  what 
other  delicacies.  Our  dinners  are  unapproachable  by 
any  city  "Astor;"  and  for  tea  such  sweetmeats,  such 
blackberries  and  cream,  such  delicious  bread ! — ^but  you 
will  think  I  am  an  epicure  truly  if  I  go  on.  Suffice  it 
to  say  that  we  remained  there  a  week  (for  my  husband 
is  a  quiet  epicure  in  his  way),  and  took  stage  for  a  town 
where  we  could  strike  the  railroad. 

We  flew  through  Petersburg,  paused  to  breathe  in 
Richmond,  which  has  flowing  at  its  side  a  wild,  rock- 
filled  river  of  a  hundred  rapids,  which  we  crossed  at  a 
dizzy  height,  looking  down  upon  it  from  the  car  windows 
with  that  thrill  of  the  nerves  which  gazing  from  a  great 
height  irresistibly  causes. 

We  ascended  the  Potomac  and  passed  Mount  Vernon. 
I  was  previously  told  that  when  we  came  opposite  to  it, 
the  bell  of  the  boat  would  be  struck  thirteen  times,  not 
only  in  homage  to  the  Great  Deliverer  of  the  "  Thirteen 


526  THE   SUNNY   SOUTH. 

Republics,"  but  also  to  notify  passengers  wben  the  boat 
came  near  the  political  Mecca  of  Americans.  But  no 
bell  sounded — no  notice  was  taken  by  the  steamer  of 
the  spot,  which  no  British  war-ship  passes  without 
lowering  its  colors  and  firing  a  salute.  We  Americans 
seem  to  be  destitute  of  all  suggestive  imagination  and 
reverential  associations. 

We  shall  remain  in  the  Capital  a  few  days,  and  thence 
hasten  to  New  York  to  hit  the  steamer;  for  we  reside 
the   next  two  years  abroad.     This  is  the  last  Needle, 

therefore,  you  will  receive  from  me,  Mr. ,  and  which 

must  terminate  forever  our  correspondence.  The  request 
of  so  many  of  my  friends  I  feel  must  be  cheerfully  com- 
plied with;  and  while  in  Philadelphia,  I  shall  make  (if 
possible)  arrangements  with  a  publisher,  to  issue  my  poor 
writings  in  one  or  two  volumes  under  the  title  of 

"THE    SUNNY    SOUTH: 

By  Kjlte  Conyngham." 

Farewell. 


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and  perplexities  incident  to  Housekeeping',  can  fail  to  recognize  many  of  her 
own  experiences,  for  every  picture  here  presented  has  been  drawn  from  life. 

THE  WITHERED  HEART. 

With  fine  Mezzotint  Frontispiece,      izmo..  Cloth.     Price  $1.00. 
This  work  has  gone  through  several  editions  in  England,  although  pub- 
lished but  a  short  time,  and  has  had  the  most  flattering  notices  from  tha 
English  Press. 

STEPS  TOWARD  HEAVEN. 

A  Series  of  Lay  Sermons  for  Converts  in  the  Great  Awakening. 
i2mo.,  cloth.     Price  $1;  00. 

THE  HAND  BUT  NOT  THE  HEART; 
Or,  Life  Trials  of  Jessie  Loring.     i2mo.,  cloth.     Price,  $1.00. 

THE  GOOD  TIME  COMING. 
Large  i2mo.,  with  fine   Mezzotint   Frontispiece.     Price,  $1.00. 

LEAVES  FROM  THE  BOOK  OF  HUMAN  LIFE. 

Large  i2mo.     With  30  illustrations  and  steel  plate.     Price  $1.00. 
"  It  includes  some  of  the  best  humorous  sketches  of  the  author." 

HEART  HISTORIES  AND  LIFE  PICTURES. 

ismo      Cloth.     Price  $1.00. 

•In  the  preparation  of  this  volume,  we  have  andeavored  to  show,  that 
whatever  tends  to  awaken  our  sympathies  towards  others,  is  an  individual 
fe«nefit  as  well  as  a  common  good." 

SPARING  TO  SPEND ;  or,  the  Loftons  and  Pinkertons 

izmo.,  cloth.     Price  $1.00. 

The  purpose  of  this  volume  is  to  exhibit  the  evils  that  flow  ft  om  410  104 
eommon  lack  of  pmdence. 


4  LIST    OF    BOOKS    PUBLISHED    BY    G.    G.    EVANS. 

HOME   SCENES. 

l2mo.     Cloth.     Price  $i.oo. 

This  Book  is  designed  to  aid  in  the  work  of  overcoming  what  is  evil  and 
selfish,  that  home  lights  may  dispel  home  shadows. 

THE   OLD   MAN'S  BRIDE. 
l2mo.     Cloth.     Pricefi.oo. 
This  is  a  powerfully  written  Book,  showing  the  folly  of  unequal  marriages. 

ADVICE  TO  YOUNG  LADIES  ON  THEIR  DUTIES  AND 
CONDUCT  IN  LIFE. 

By  T.  S.  Arthur.     A  new  and  greatly  enlarged  edition,      izmo., 
cloth.     Steel  plate.     Price  $i.oo. 

ADVICE  TO  YOUNG  MEN  ON  VARIOUS  IMPORTANT 

SUBJECTS. 
By  T.  S.  Arthur.     A  new  and  greatly  enlarged  edition.      lamo., 
cloth.     Steel  plate.     Price  $i.oo. 

TWENTY   YEARS   AGO   AND   NOW. 
By  T.  S.  Arthur.      i2mo.,  cloth,  mezzotint  engraving.     Price 
$i.oo. 


BIOGRAPHIES. 

LIFE  AND  EXPLORATIONS  OF  DR.  E.  K.  KANE, 
And  other  Distinguished  American  Explorers.  Including  Ledyard, 
Wilkes,  Perry,  &c.  Containing  narratives  of  their  researches 
and  adventures  in  remote  and  interesting  portions  of  the  Globe. 
By  Samuel  M.  Smucker,  LL.D.  With  a  fine  Mezzotint  Por- 
trait of  Dr.  Kane,  in  his  Arctic  costume.     Price  $i.oo. 

THE  LIFE  AND  REIGN  OF  NICHOLAS  L, 
Emperor  of  Russia.  With  descriptions  of  Russian  Society  and 
Government,  and  a  full  and  complete  History  of  the  War  in 
the  East.  Also,  Sketches  of  Schamyl,  the  Circassian,  an^  other 
Distinguished  Characters.  By  S.  M.  Smucker,  LL.D.  Beautifully 
Illustrated.     Over  400  pages,  large  i2mo.     Price  $1.25. 

THE  PUBLIC  AND  PRIVATE  LIFE  OF  DAN'L  WEBSTER, 
By  Gen.  S.  P.  Lyman.     i2mo.,  cloth.     Price  $i. 00. 


LIST   OF   BOOKS    PUBLISHED   BY  G.    G.    EVAN8. 


THE  MASTER  SPIRIT  OF  THE  AGE. 

THE  PUBLIC  AND  PRIVATE  HISTORY  OF  NAPOLEON 
THE  THIRD. 

With  Biographical  Notices  of  his  most  Distinguished  Ministcn, 
Generals  and  Favorites.  By  S.  M.  Smucker,  LL.D.  This  in- 
teresting and  valuable  work  is  embellished  with  splendid  steel 
plates,  done  by  Sartain  in  his  best  style,  including  the  Emperor, 
the  Empress,  Queen  Hortense,  and  the  Countess  Castiglione. 
400  pages,  i2mo.     Price  $1.25. 

MEMOIRS  OF  ROBERT  HOUDIN, 

The  celebrated  French  Conjuror.  Translated  from  the  French. 
With  a  copious  Index.  By  Dr.  R.  Shelton  Mackenzie.  This 
book  is  full  of  interesting  and  entertaining  anecdotes  of  the  great 
Wizard,  and  gives  descriptions  of  the  manner  of  performing 
many  of  his  most  curious  tricks  and  transformations.  l2mo., 
cloth.     Price  $1.00. 

LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  DAVID  CROCKETT. 

Written  by  himself,  with  Notes  and  Additions.  Splendidly  illus- 
trated with  engravings,  from  original  designs.  By  George  G. 
White.      i2mo.,  cloth.     Price  $1.00. 

LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF  DANIEL  BOONE. 

Including  an  account  of  the  Early  Settlements  of  Kentucky.  By 
Cecil  B.  Hartley.  With  splendid  illustrations,  from  original 
drawings  by  George  G.  White.     i2mo.,  cloth.     Price  $1.00. 

LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  LEWIS  WETZEL. 
Together  with  Biographical  Sketches  of  Simon  Kenton,  Benjamin 
Logan,  Samuel  Brady,  Isaac  Shelby,  and  other  distinguished 
Warriors  and  Hunters  of  the  West.  By  Cecil  B.  Hartley. 
With  splendid  illustrations,  from  original  drawings  by  George 
G.White.      i2mo.,  cloth.     Price  $1.00. 

LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF   GENERAL  FRANCIS   MARION, 

The  Hero  of  the  American  Revolution  ;  giving  full  accounts  of 

his  many  perilous  adventures  and  hair-breadth  escapes  amongst 

the  British  and  Tories  in  the  Southern  States,  during  the  struggle 

for  liberty.    By  W.  Gilmore  Simms.     i2mo.,  cloth.    $1.00. 


6  LIST   OF   BOOKS    PUBLISHED   BY    G.    G.    EVANS. 

UFE  OF  GENERAL  SAMUEL  HOUSTON, 

The  Hunter,  Patriot,  and  Statesman  of  Texas.  With  nine  illus- 
trations.     i2mo,,  cloth.     Price! I. GO. 

LIVES    OF   GENERAL   HENRY   LEE   AND   GENERAL 
THOMAS    SUMPTER. 

Comprising  a  History  of  the  War  in  the  Southern  Department  of 
the  United  States.     Illustrated,  i2mo,  cloth.     $i.oo. 

DARING  &  HEROIC  DEEDS  OF  AMERICAN  WOMEN. 

Comprising  Thrilling  Examples  of  Courage,  Fortitude,  Devoted- 
ness,  and  Self-Sacrifice,  among  the  Pioneer  Mothers  of  the 
Western  Country.     By  John  Frost,  LL.D.     Price  $1.00. 

LIVES  OF  FEMALE  MORMONS. 

A.  Narrative  of  facts  Stranger  than  Fiction.  By  Metta  Vict  oria 
Fuller,      izmo.,  cloth.     Price  $1.00. 

LIVES  OF  ILLUSTRIOUS  WOMEN  OF  ALL  AGES. 

Containing  tne  Empress  Josephine,  Lady  Jane  Gray,  Beatrice 
Cenci,  Joan  of  Arc,  Anne  Boleyn,  Charlotte  Corday,  Zenobia, 
&c.,  &c.  Embellished  with  Fine  Steel  Portraits,  izmo.,  cloth. 
Price  $1.60. 

THE  LIVES  AND  EXPLOITS  OF  THE  MOST  NOTED 
BUCCANEERS  &  PIRATES  OF  ALL  COUNTRIES. 

Handsomely  illustrated,     i  vol.     Cloth.     Price  $1.00. 

HIGHWAYMEN,  ROBBERS  AND  BANDITTI  OF  ALL 
COUNTRIES. 

With  Colored  and  other  Engravings.  Handsomely  bound  in  one 
volume.     i2mo.,  cloth.     Price  $1.00. 

HEROES  AND  PATRIOTS  OF  THE  SOUTH; 

Comprising  Lives  of  General  Francis  Marion,  General  William 
Moultrie,  General  Andrew  Pickens,  and  Governor  John 
Rutledge.  By  Cecil  B.  Hartley.  Illustrated,  i2mo.,  cloth. 
Price  $1.00. 


LIST    OF    BOOKS    PUBLISHED    BY    G.    G.    EVANS. 


KIT   CARSON. 

Life  of  Christopher  Carson,  the  celebrated  Rocky  Mountain 
Hunter,  Trapper  and  Guide,  with  a  full  description  of  his 
Hunting  Exploits,  Hair-breadth  Escapes,  and  adventures  with 
the  Indians ;  together  with  his  services  rendered  the  United 
States  Government,  as  Guide  to  the  various  Exploring  Expedi- 
tions under  John  C.  Fremont  and  others.  By  Charles  Burdett. 
With  six  illustrations,      izmo.,  cloth.     Price  Si.oo. 

THE   LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF  GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 

By  S.  M.  Smucker,  LL.D.,  author  of  "  The  Life  of  Thomas 
Jefferson,"  "Life  of  Alexander  Hamilton,"  etc.,  etc.  i2mo., 
cloth,  with  Steel  Portrait.     Price  $1.00. 

THE  LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF  HENRY  CLAY. 

By  S.  M.  Smucker,  LL.D.,  author  of  the  "Lives  of  Washington," 
"Jefferson,"  etc.     izmo.,  cloth.  Steel  Portrait.     Price  $1.00. 

LIFE  OF  ANDREW  JACKSON. 

Containing  an  Authentic  History  of  the  Memorable  Achievements 
of  the  American  Army  under  General  Jackson,  before  New 
Orleans.    By  Alexander  Walker.    i2mo.,  cloth.    Price  $1.00. 

LIFE   OF  BENJAMIN   FRANKLIN. 

By  O.  L.  Holley.  With  Steel  Portrait  and  six  Illustrations. 
l2mo.,  cloth.     Price  $1.00. 

LIVES  OF  THE  SIGNERS  OF  THE  DECLARATION  OF 
AMERICAN  INDEPENDENCE. 

By  B.  J.  LossiNG.  Steel  Frontispiece,  and  fifty  portraits.  1 2mo., 
cloth.     Price  ^i.oo. 

LIFE  OF  CAPT.  JOHN  SMITH  OF  VIRGINIA. 

By  W.  GiLLMORE  SiMMs.     Illustrated,  i2mo.,  cloth.  Price,  $1   00. 

THE   THREE   MRS.  JUDSONS, 

The  Female  Missionaries.  By  Cecil  B.  Hartley.  A  new  and 
carefully  revised  edition,  with  steel  portraits,  izmo.  Price, 
$1   00. 


LIST  OF   BOOKS    PUBLISHED   BY    G.    G.    EVANS. 


INGRAHAM'S   THREE  GREAT  WORKS. 


THE 

Prince  of  the  House  of  David; 

Or,  Three  Years  in  the  Holy  City.  Being  a  series  of  the  let- 
ters of  Adina,  a  Jewess  of  Alexandria,  supposed  to  be  sojourning 
in  Jerusalem  in  the  days  of  Herod,  addressed  to  her  Father  a 
wealthy  Jew  in  Egypt,  and  relating,  as  if  by  an  eye-witness,  all 
the  scenes  and  wonderful  incidents  in  the  life  of  Jesus  of  Naz- 
areth, from  his  Baptism  in  Jordan  to  his  Crucifixion  on  Calvary. 
New  edition,  carefully  revised  and  corrected  by  the  author. 
Rev.  J.  H.  Ingraham,  LL.D.,  Rector  of  Christ  Church,  and 
St.  Thomas'  Hall,  Holly  Springs,  Miss.  With  five  splendid 
illustrations,  one  large  i2mo.,  volume,  cloth.  Price,  $i  25. 
Full  Gilt  sides  and  edges.  Price  $2.00. 
The  same  work  in  German.      i2mo.,  cloth.     Price,  $1.25. 

THE    PILLAR    OF    FIRE; 

Or,  Israel  in  Bondage.  Being  an  account  of  the  Wonderful 
Scenes  in  the  Life  of  the  Son  of  Pharaoh's  Daughter,  (Moses). 
Together  with  Picturesque  Sketches  of  the  Hebrews  under  their 
Task-masters.  By  Rev.  J.  H.  Ingraham,  LLD.,  author  of  the 
"Prince  of  the  House  of  David."  With  steel  Frontispiece. 
Large  i2mo.,  cloth.  Price,  $1  25;  the  same  work,  full  gilt 
sides  and  edges.      Price,  $2  00. 

THE  THRONE   OF   DAVID; 

r-om  the  Consecration  of  the  Shepherd  of  Bethlehem,  to  the  Re- 
bellion of  Prince  Absalom.  Being  an  illustration  of  the  Splendor, 
Power  and  Dominion  of  the  Reign  of  the  Shepherd,  Poet, 
Warrior,  King  and  Prophet,  Ancestor  and  type  of  Jesus,  address- 
ed by  an  Assyrian  Ambassador,  resident  at  the  Court  of  Jeru- 
salem, to  his  Lord  and  King  on  the  Throne  of  Nineveh;  where- 
in the  magnificence  of  Assyria,  as  well  as  the  magnificence  of 
Judea,  is  presented  to  the  reader  as  by  an  eye-witness.  By  the 
Rev.  J.  H.  Ingraham,  LL.D.,  Rector  of  Christ  Church  and 
St.  Thomas'  Hall,  Holly  Springs,  Miss.,  author  of  the  "  Prince 
of  the  House  of  David"  and  the  "Pillar  of  Fire."  With  five 
splendid  illustrations.  Large  1 2mo.,  cloth.  Price  $1  25;  the 
same  work,  full  gilt  sides  and  edges.     Price,  $2  00. 


LIST    OF    BOOKS    PUBLISHED    BY    G.    G.    EVANS. 


The   Sunny   South; 

OR, 

THE  SOUTHERNER  AT  HOME. 

EMBRACING 

Five  years'  experience  of  a  Northern  Governess  in  the  Land  of  the 
Sugar  and  the  Cotton.  Edited  by  Professor  J.  H.  Ingraham, 
of  Miss.     Large  i2mo.,  cloth.     Price,  $i   25. 


A  BUDGET  OF 

HUMOROUS    POETRY, 


comprising 


Specimens  of  the  best  and  most  Humorous  Productions  of  the 
popular  American  and  Foreign  Poetical  Writers  of  the  day. 
By  the  author  of  the  "  Book  of  Anecdotes  and  Budget  of 
Fun."     One  volume,  i2mo.,  cloth.     Price  $1   00. 


The  World  in  a  Pocket  Book. 

BY 

WILLIAM    H.   CRUMP. 

NEW    AND    REVISED    EDITION,   BROUGHT    DOWN    TO 
i860. 

This  work  is  a  Compendium  of  Useful  Knowledge  and  General 
Reference,  dedicated  to  the  Manufacturers,  Farmers,  Merchants, 
and  Mechanics  of  the  United  States — to  all,  in  short,  with  whom 
time  is  money — and  whose  business  avocations  render  the  acqui- 
sition of  extensive  and  diversified  information  desirable,  by  the 
shortest  possible  road.  This  volume,  it  is  hoped,  will  be  found 
worthy  of  a  place  in  every  household — in  every  family.  ^  It 
may  indeed  be  termed  a  library  in  itself.  Large  i  zmo.  Price, 
$1    25. 


lO  LIST   OF   BOOKS    PUBLISHED    BY    G.    G.    EVANS. 

THE  SPIRIT  LAND. 
i2mo.,  cloth,  with  Mezzotint  Engraving.     Price  $i.oo. 

"  These  pages  are  submitted  to  the  public  with  the  counsel  of  the  Yrise«t 
and  best  of  all  ages,  that  amid  the  wiley  arts  of  the  Adversary,  we  should  cling 
to  the  word  of  GoD,  the  Bible,  as  the  only  safe  and  infallible  guide  of  Paith 
and  Practice." 

THE  MORNING  STAR ;  or.  Symbols  of  Christ. 

By  Re\    Wm.  M.  Thayer,  author  of  "  Hints  for  the  Household," 
"  Pastor's  Holiday  Gift,"  &c.,  &c.      i2mo.,  cloth.     Price  $i.oo 

"  The  symbolical  parts  of  Scriptures  are  invested  with  peculiar  attractions. 
A  familiar  acquaintance  with  them  can  scarcely  fail  to  increase  respect  and 
love  for  the  Bible." 

SWEET  HOME ;  or.  Friendship's  Golden  Altar. 

By  Frances  C.  Percival.     Mezzotint  Frontispiece,  1 2mo.,  cloth, 
gilt  back  and  centre.     Price  $i.oo. 

"  The  object  of  this  book  is  to  awaken  the  Memories  of  Home — to  remind 
as  of  the  old  Scenes  and  old  Times." 

THE  DESERTED  FAMILY; 

Or,  the  Wanderings  of  an  Outcast.     By  Paul  Creyton.    i  2mo., 
cloth.     Price  $i.oo. 

"  An  interesting  story,  which  might  exert  a  good  influence  in  softening  th« 
heart,  warming  the  affections,  and  elevating  the  soul." 

ANNA    CLAYTON;    or,  the  Mother's  Trial. 
A  Tale  of  Real  Life,      izmo.,  cloth.     Price  $i.oo. 

"  The  principal  characters  in  this  tale  are  drawn  from  real  life — imagina* 
lion  cannot  picture  deeper  shades  of  sadness,  higher  or  more  exquisite  joys, 
than  Truth  has  woven  for  us,  in  the  Mother's  Trial." 

"FASHIONABLE    DISSIPATION." 

By  Metta  V.  Fuller.     Mezzotint  Frontispiece,  izmo.,  bound  io 
cloth.     Price  $i.oo. 

THE    OLD    FARM    HOUSE. 

By  Mrs.  Caroline  H.  Butler  Laing,  w^ith  six  splendid  Illustra- 
tions.    I  zmo.,  cloth.  Price  $  I. CO. 


LIST    OP    BOOKS    PUBLISHED    BT    G.  G.  EVANS.  II 

"to   the   PURK   ALIi   things   AM!   PUEE." 

WOMAN   AND   HER  DISEASES. 

From  the  Cradle  to  the  Grave ;  adapted  exclusively  to  her  instruc- 
cion  in  the  Physiology  of  hef  system,  and  all  the  Diseases' of  her 
Critical  Periods.  By  Edward  H.  Dixon,  M.D.  i2mo.  Price 
$i.oo. 

DR.  LIVINGSTONE'S  TRAVELS  AND  RESEARCHES 
OF  SIXTEEN  YEARS  IN  THE  WILDS  OF  SOUTH 
AFRICA. 

One  volume,  i2mo.,  cloth,  fine  edition,  printed  upon  superior 
paper,  with  numerous  illustrations.  Price  $1.25.  Cheap  edi- 
tion, price  $1.00. 

This  is  a  work  of  thrilling  adrentures  and  hair-breadth  escapes  among 
savage  beasts,  and  more  savage  men.  Dr.  Livingstone  was  alone,  and  unaid- 
ed by  any  white  man,  traveling  only  with  African  attendants,  among  diflFerent 
tribes  and  nations,  all  strange  to  him,  and  many  of  them  hostile,  and  alto- 
gether forming  the  most  astonishing  book  of  travels  the  world  has  ever 
seen.     All  acknowledge  it  is  the  most  readable  book  published. 

ANDERSSON'S   EXPLORATIONS  AND  DISCOVERIES. 

Giving  accounts  of  many  P'^^'ous  Adventures,  and  Thrilling  Inci- 
dents, during  Four  Years'  Wanderings  in  the  Wilds  of  South 
Western  Africa.  By  C.  J.  Akdersson,  LL.D.,  F.R.S.  With 
an  Introductory  Letter,  by  J.  C.  Fremont.  One  volume,  i2mo., 
cloth.  With  Numerous  Illustrations,  representing  Sporting 
Adventures,  Subjects  of  Natural  History,  Devices  for  Destroy- 
ing Wild  Animals,  etc.     Price  $1.25. 

INDIA  AND  THE  INDIAN  MUTINY. 

Comprising  a  Complete  History  of  Hindoostan,  from  the  earliest 
times  to  the  present  day,  with  full  particulars  of  the  Recent 
Mutiny  in  Indi«.  Illustrated  with  numerous  engravings.  By 
Henry  Frederick  Malcom.  This  work  has  been  gotten  up 
with  great  care,  and  may  be  relied  on  as  Complete  and  Accu- 
rate ;  making  one  of  the  most  Thrillingly  Interesting  books  pub- 
lished. It  contains  illustrations  of  all  the  great  Battles  and 
Sieges,  making  a  large  l2mo.,  volume  of  about  450  pages. 
Price  $1.25. 


IX  LIST   OF   BOOKS    PUBLISHED   BY    G.  G.  ETANS. 


SEVEN  YEARS  IN  THE  WILDS  OF  SIBERIA, 

A  Narrative  of  Seven  Years'  Explorations  and  Adventures  in 
Oriental  and  Western  Siberia,  Mongolia,  the  Kir  his  Steppes, 
Chinese  Tartary,  and  Part  of  Central  Asia.  By  Thomas 
William  Atkinson.  With  numerous  Illustrations,  izmo.,  clcth, 
price  $1.25. 

SIX  YEARS  IN  NORTHERN  AND  CENTRAL  AFRICA. 

Travels  and  Discoveries  in  North  and  Central  Africa,  being  a 
Journal  of  an  Expedition  undertaken  under  the  auspices  of 
H.  B.  M.'s  Government,  in  the  years  1849-1855.  By  Henrt 
Barth,  Ph.  D.,  D.C.L.,  Fellow  of  the  Royal  Geographical  and 
Asiatic  Societies,  &c.,  &c.     izmo.,  cloth,  price  $1.25. 

THREE  VISITS  TO  MADAGASCAR 

During  the  years  1853,  1854,  1856,  including  a  journey  to  the 
Capital ;  with  notices  of  the  Natural  History  of  the  Country 
and  of  the  present  Civilization  of  the  People,  by  the  Rev.  Wm. 
Ellis,  F.H.S.,  author  of  "  Polynesian  Researches."  Illustrated 
by  engravings  from  photographs,  &c.      izmo.,  cloth.     $1.25.  J 

CAPT.  COOK'S  VOYAGES  ROUND  THE  WORLD.  \ 

One  volume,  i2mo.,  cloth.     Price  $1.00. 

BOOK  OF  ANECDOTES  AND  BUDGET  OF  FUN. 

Containing  a  collection  of  over  One  Thousand  Laughable  Sayings, 
Rich  Jokes,  etc.      izmo,,  cloth,  extra  gilt  back,  $1.00. 

"  Nothing  is  so  well   calculated  to  preferve  the  healthful  action   of  th« 
human  system  as  a  good  hearty  laugh." 

BOOK  OF  PLAYS  FOR  HOME  AMUSEMENT. 

Being  2  collection  of  Original,  Altered  and  well-selected  Tragedies, 
Comedies,  Dramas,  Farces,  Burlesques,  Charades,  Comic  Lec- 
tures, etc.  Carefully  arranged  and  specially  adapted  for  Private 
Representation,  with  full  directions  for  Performance.  Bv  Silas 
S.  Steele,  Dramatist.     One  volume,  i  zmo.,  cloth.     Price  $1.00. 


LIST    OF    BOOKS    PUBLISHED    BY    G.    G.    EVANS.  I| 

A  HISTORY  OF  ITALY, 

AND  THE  WAR  OF  1859. 

Giving  the  causes  of  the  War,  with  Biographical  Sketches  of  Sov- 
eieigns.  Statesmen  and  Military  Commanders;  Descriptions  and 
Statistics  of  the  Country ;  with  finely  engraved  Portraits  of  Louis 
Napoleon,  Emperor  of  France  Frances  Joseph,  Emperor  of 
Austria ;  Victor  Emanuel,  King  of  Sardinia,  and  Garribaldi,  the 
Charnpion  of  Italian  Freedom.  Together  with  the  official  ac- 
counts of  the  Battles  of  Montebello,  Palestro,  Magenta,  Maleg- 
nano,  Solferino,  etc.,  etc.,  and  Maps  of  Italy,  Austria,  and  all 
the    adjacent  Countries,  by 

MADAME  JULIE  DE  MARGUERITTES. 

With  an  introduction  by  Dr.  R.  Shelton  Mackenzie,  one  volume, 
i2mo.,  cloth,  price  $1.25. 

From  the  New  York  Courier  and  Enquirer, 

"  This  is  an  able,  interesting  and  lively  account  of  the  War  and  the  circum- 
atances  connected  with  it.  The  author's  residence  in  Europe  has  given  her 
facilities  for  preparing  the  volume  which  add  much  to  its  value. 

"  Not  only  does  she  give  a  description  of  Italy  in  general,  but  of  each  Sov- 
ereignty, and  State,  showing  the  Extent,  Resources,  Power  and  Political  sit- 
uation of  each.  Throughout  the  volume  are  found  Anecdotes,  Recollections, 
and  even  Ondits,  which  contribute  to  its  interest." 

THE  BOOK  OF  POPULAR  SONGS. 

Being  a  compendium  of  the  best  Sentimental,  Comic,  Negro,  Nation- 
al, Patriotic,  Military,  Naval,  Social,  Convivial,  and  Pathetic 
Ballads  and  Melodies,  as  sung  by  the  most  celebrated  Opeia 
Singers,  Negro  Minstrels,  and  Comic  Vocalists  of  the  day. 

One  volume,  i2mo.,  cloth.     Price  $1.00. 

THE  AMERICAN  PRACTICAL  COOKERY  BOOK; 

Or.  Housekeeping  made  easy,  pleasant,  and  econmical  in  all  its 
departments.  To  which  are  added  directions  for  setting  out 
Tables,  and  giving  Entertainments.  Directions  for  Jointing, 
Trussing,  and  Carving,  and  many  hundred  new  Receipts  in 
Cookery  and  Housekeeping.  With  50  engravings,  izmo., 
cloth.     Price  $1.00. 


14  UST    OF   BOOKS    PUBLISHED    BY  G.    G.    EVANS. 


RECORDS  OF  THE  REVOLUTIONARY  WAR. 

Containing  the  Military  and  Financial  Correspondence  of  distin- 
guished officers;  names  of  the  officers  and  privates  of  regiments, 
companies  and  corps,  with  the  dates  of  their  commissions  and 
enlistments.  General  orders  of  Washington,  Lee,  and  Green  ; 
with  a  list  of  distinguished  prisoners  of  war  ;  the  time  of  their 
capture,  exchange,  etc.;  to  which  is  added  the  half-pay  acts  of 
the  Continental  Congress ;  the  Revolutionary  pension  laws ;  and 
a  list  of  the  officers  of  the  Continental  army  who  acquired  th« 
right  to  half-pay,  commutation,  and  lands,  &c.  By  T.  W.  Saf- 
.FELL.     Large    i2mo.,  $1.25. 

THE  ROMANCE  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

Being  a  history  of  the  personal  adventures,  romantic  incidents  and 
exploits  incidental  to  the  War  of  Independence — ^with  tinted 
illustrations.     Large  i2mo.,  $1.25. 

THE  QUEEN'S  FATE. 

A  talc  of  the  days  of  Herod.  i2mo.,  cloth,  with  Steel  Illustra- 
tions.    $1.00. 

"A  recital  of  events,  of  an  awe-arousing  period,  in  a  familiar  and  interest- 
ing manner." 

"LIVING  AND  LOVING." 

A  collection  of  Sketches.  By  Miss  Virginia  F.  Townsend. — 
Large  i2mo.,  with  fine  steel  portrait  of  the  author.  Bound  in 
cloth.     Price  §1.00. 

We  might  say  many  things  in  favor  of  this  delightful  publication,  but  we 
deem  it  unnecessary.  Husbands  should  buy  it  for  their  wives :  lovers  should 
buy  it  for  their  sweet-hearts :  friends  should  buy  it  for  their  friends.— Gorfey'j 
Lady^s  Book, 

WHILE  IT  WAS  MORNING. 

By  Virginia  F.  Townsend,  author  of  "  Living  ind  Loving." 
l2mo.,  cloth.     Price  $1.00. 

THE  ANGEL  VISITOR  ;  or.  Voices  of  the  Heart. 
l2mo.,  cloth,  with  Mezzotint  Engraving.     Price  $1.00. 
"  The  miuion  of  this  volume  is  to  aid  in  doing  good  to  those  in  affliction." 


LIST   OF    BOOKS    PUBLISHED    BY    G.    C.    EVANS.  I J 


THE  LADIES'  HAND  BOOK 


Fancy  and  Ornamental  Needle-Work. 

COMPRISING 

Full  directions  with  patterns  for  working  in  Embroidery,  Applique, 
Braiding,  Crochet,  Knitting,  Netting,  Tatting,  Quilting,  Tam- 
bour aud  Gobelin  Tapestry,  Broderie  Anglaise,  Guipure  Work, 
Canvass  Work,  Worsted  Work,  Lace  Work,  Bead  Work, 
Stitching,  Patch  Work,  Frivolite,  &c.  Illustrated  with  262 
Engraved  Patterns,  taken  from  original  designs.  By  Miss 
Florence  Hartley.  One  volume.  Quarto  Cloth.  Price, 
$1   25. 


The   Ladies'    Book   of   Etiquette, 

AND 

MANUAL  OF  POLITENESS. 


A    Hand   Book   for   the   use  of  Ladies   in   Polite  Society.     By 
Florence  Hartley.     i2mo.,  cloth.     Price,  $1  00. 


The  Gentlemen's  Book  of  Etiquette, 


MANUAL   OF   POLITENESS. 

Being  a  Complete  Guide  for  a  Gentleman's  Conduct  in  all  his 
relations  toward  Society.  By  Cecil  B.  Hartley.  i2mo. 
Price,  $r  00. 


l6  LIST   OF   BOOKS   PUBLISHED   BY   G.  G.   EVANS. 

LECTURES   FOR   THE   PEOPLE: 

BY  THE 

Rev.   H.   STOWELL   BROWN, 

Of  tht  Myrtle  Street  Baptist  Chapel,  Liverfocl,  England. 

First  Series,  published  under  a  special  arrangement  with  the  author. 
With  a  Biographical  introduction  by  Dr.  R.  Shelton  Mackenzik. 
With  a  splendidly  engraved  Steel  Portrait.  One  vol.,  414  pages. 
i2mo.,  cloth.     Price  $1.00. 

Mr.  Brown's  lectures  fill  an  important  place,  for  which  we  have  no  other 
hook.  The  style  is  clear,  the  spirit  is  kind,  the  reasoning  careful,  and  th«* 
argument  conclusive.  We  are  persuaded  that  this  hook  will  render  moro 
good  than  any  book  of  sermons  or  lectures  that  have  been  published  in  thif 
19th  century. — Liverpool  Hiereury. 

THE  HOME  BOOK  OF  HEALTH  AND  MEDICINE; 

Or,  The  Laws  and  Means  of  Physical  Culture,  adapted  to 
practical  use.  Embracing  a  treatise  on  Dyspepsia,  Digestion, 
Breathing,  Ventilation,  Laws  of  the  Skin,  Consumption,  how 
prevented;  Clothing,  Food,  Exercise,  Rest,  &c.  By  W.  A. 
Alcott,  M.  D.  With  ^1  illustrations.  Large  i2mo.  Price, 
$1.25. 

LIFE  OF  THE  EMPRESS  JOSEPHINE, 

First  Wife  of  Napoleon  I.  Illustrated  with  Steel  Portraits.  'By 
J.  T.  Laurens,  author  of  **  Heroes  and  Patriots  of  the  South." 
i2mo.  cloth.     Price,  $1.00. 

LIVES    OF    THE   HEROES    OF    THE  AMERICAN 
REVOLUTION. 

Comprising  the  Lives  of  Washington  and  his  Generals.  The 
Declaration  of  Independence.  The  Constitution  of  the  United 
States.  The  Inaugural,  First  Annual .  and  Farewell  Addresses 
of  Washington.     With  Portraits.     i2mo.,  cloth.     Price  $1.00 

COLUMBA;   A  Tale  of  Corsica. 

By  Prosper  Merimee.  As  a  picture  of  Corsican  life  and  manners, 
Columba  is  unequalled.    In  one  handsome  volume.    Price  81.00 


LIST   OF   BOOKS    PX/BLISHED   BY   G.  C.  EVANS.  17 

LIGHTS  AND  SHADOWS  OF  A  PASTOR'S  LIFE. 
By  S.  H.  Elliott.     One  volume,  i2mo.,  cloth.     Price  $i.oo. 

"  This  is  a  well-written,  highly  instruetive  hook.  It  is  a  story  of  the  life- 
teachings,  and  life-trials  of  a  good  man,  whose  great  aim  was  to  elevate, 
morally  and  intellectually,  his  fellow-men.  Like  many  of  his  nature  and 
temperament,  some  of  his  views  were  Utopian.  But  his  successes  and 
failures,  with  the  causes  of  these,  are  painted  with  a  masterly  hand.  Thera 
is  unusual  strength  asd  vitality  in  this  volume." 

THREE   PER   CENT.  A  MONTH; 

Or,  the   Perils  of  Fast   Living.     A  Warning  to  Young  Men. 
By  Chas.  BuRDETT.    One  volume,  1 2mo.,  cloth.    Price  $i.oo. 

"The  style  of  this  hook  is  direct  and  elFective,  particularly  fitting  the 
impression  which  such  a  story  should  make.  It  is  a  very  spirited  and  in- 
structive tale,  leaving  a  good  impression  both  upon  the  reader's  sensibilities 
and  morals." 

EVENINGS  AT   HOME; 

Or,  Tales    for   the  Fireside.      By  Jane   C.  Campbell.      One 
volume,  i2mo.,  cloth.     Price  $i.oo. 

"  We  know  of  no  book  in  the  whole  range  of  modern  fietitions  literature 
we  would  sooner  select  for  a  delightful  and  instructive  companion." 

RURAL   LIFE; 

Or,  Prose  and  Poetry  of  the  Woods  and  Fields.     By  Harry 
Penciller.     One  volume,  cloth,   i2mo.      Price  $i.oo. 

"  Beautiful  landscapes,  family  scenes  and  conversations,  rural  sketches  of 
woods  and  vales,  of  the  beauties  of  verdant  fields  and  fragrant  flowers,  of 
the  music  of  birds  and  running  brooks,  all  described  in  an  original  and  un- 
studied manner,  which  cannot  fail  to  delight  every  one  whose  character  is 
imbued  with  a  love  of  nature." 

JOYS  AND  SORROWS  OF   HOME; 

An    Autobiography.     By  Anna  Leland.     One  volume,  1 2mo., 
cloth.     Price  $i.oo 

"This  is  one  of  the  most  beautiftil  domestic  stories  we  have  ever  read, 
Intensely  icteresting,  with  a  natural  flow  and  easiness  which  leads  the  reader 
Imperceptibly  on  to  the  close,  and  then  leaves  a  regret  that  the  tale  is  uone." 


1 8  LIST   OF   BOOKS    PUBLISHED   Br  G.    G.    EVANS. 


BEAUTY   OF   WOMAN'S   FAITH; 
A  Tale  of  Southern  Life.     One  volume,  i2mo.,  cloth.     Price 

$1  GO. 

"  This  volume  contains  the  story  of  a  French  Emigrant,  who  first  escaped 
to  England,  and  afterward  settled  on  a  plantation  in  Louisiana.  It  is  chann> 
ingly  told,  and  the  strength  .and  endurance  of  woman's  faith  well  illastrated." 

THE    ORPHAN    BOY; 

Or,  Lights  and  Shadows  of  Northern  Life.     By  Jeremy  Loud. 
One  volume,  i2mo.,  cloth.     Price  $i.oo. 

"This  is  a  work  illustrating  the  passions  and  pleasures,  the  trials  and  tri- 
umphs of  common  life;  it  is  well  written  and  the  interest  is  admirably  sus. 
tained." 

THE    ORPHAN    GIRLS; 

A  Tale  of  Life  in  the  South.     By  James  S.  Peacock,  M.D.^ 

of  Mississippi.     One  volume,  izmo.,  cloth.     Price  $i.oo. 

"  The  style  is  fluent  and  unforced,  the  description  of  character  well  limned, 
and  the  pictures  of  scenery  forcible  and  felicitous.  There  is  a  natural  con- 
veyance of  incidents  to  the  denouement,  and  the  reader  closes  the  volume  with 
an  increased  regard  for  the  talent  and  spirit  of  the  author." 

NEW   ENGLAND    BOYS; 

Or,  the  Three  Apprentices.     By  A.  L.  Stimson.     One  volume, 
izmo..  Cloth.     Price  $i  oo. 

"  This  is  a  very  agreeable  book,  written  in  a  dashing  independent  style.  Tha 
incidents  are  numerous  and  striking,  the  characters  life-like,  and  the  plot 
sufficiently  captivating  to  enchain  the  reader's  attention  to  the  end  of  the 
volume." 

THE   KING'S  ADVOCATE; 

Or,  the  Adventures  of  a  Witch  Finder.     One  volume,  i  zrao., 
cloth.    Price  $i.oo. 

"This  is  a  book  so  thoroughly  excellent,  so  exalted  in  its  character,  so  full 
of  exquisite  pictures  of  society,  and  manifesting  so  much  genius,  skill,  and 
knowledge  of  human  nature,  that  no  one  can  possibly  read  it  without  admit- 
ting it  to  be,  in  every  way,  a  noble  book.  The  story,  too,  is  one  of  stirring 
interest ;  and  it  either  sweeps  you  along  with  its  powerful  spell,  or  bejfuilea 
you  with  its  tenderness,  pathos  and  geniality." 


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